Return to Mother Earth
by PlanetOfTheWeepingWillow
Summary: (Warning, Ameripan) Possibly my greatest story yet. Follow Arthur, Alfred, France, and others in a journey to save, not one, but many worlds! It seemed to be the perfect journey, find gold and go home. But one is destined to die, one to be lost, others to perish, and only one will remain alive to come home. It's a game of life or death, and life is losing.
1. Ringing in the Ears

Alfred woke up disturbed, drowning in sound. After relentless hours trying to get back to sleep, he gave up. He headed towards his kitchen and started eating. Eating cereal, he really didn't care what. Anything that would take his mind off that dreaded noise.

He couldn't focus and abandoned the meal. Turning on the TV and blasting the music, he attempted at combating the noise. It didn't work and the noise continued to penetrate his ear drums. He felt his head would burst.

He shut off the music. For a second, just a moment, he felt as though the sound stopped. He stood, crossing his fingers and praying that the awful noise was only temporary.

It came back, louder than ever, and Alfred felt hopeless. He covered his ears, trying to cut away the sound.

That is when he realized that the sound was within him. He felt hot tears spring up, he felt stupid and foolish, he dropped to his knees and hummed as loud as he could. He could still hear the awful buzzing. He sung loudly, screamed, shrieked and banged his head against the wall.

Perhaps he wished to dislodge the sound, but it wouldn't work. He cursed and hit the wall with his fist. It stung and he cursed himself further. Again, the feeling of utter stupidity overcame him and he wished to cry.

He continued to cover his ears, however useless it may be.

Alfred picked out a book from his shelf, quickly, and turned on the light. His attempt to focus on the book also proved useless and he threw it down, curled up, and covered his ears.

There was no sound besides the high pitched ringing in his ears. He pushed his small finger into his ear, rubbing it and trying to scrape it all out.

He felt as though he was going insane, and he eventually lay down, pillow on head, and tried to sleep.

* * *

"Alfred?" the warm hand on his shoulder shocked him awake. Hair standing in every direction and glasses crooked, Alfred looked at who had woken him. "Are you alright?" Arthur said, trying to comfort him.

Alfred fixed his features and took a deep breath, before the ringing sloshed back into his head. Teeth gritting, he nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine,".

Arthur took the word and tried to believe it, he sat down by Alfred and pushed some loose hair behind his ear. "Why are you out here? Isn't Kiku here as well?"

Alfred nodded, unable to focus with the loud noise. "Yeah, he's at his house. He had some business to deal with," the Englishman nodded.

"That makes sense, hey, why don't you and Kiku come over to my place? I've invited Francis as well, I've found something that could be of great interest to you all,"

"Sure," Alfred said, wincing as the sound got louder. He really wished Kiku was there right then, he would have helped cure his ears. Or head. He didn't know where the hellish tone was founded. He figured in his ears, or in his head. Part of him said it was coming from everywhere inside of him.

Arthur nodded and left, turning off the light. "Oh hello, Kiku," he smiled at the ebony haired man who came in just as he left. Kiku smiled back and nodded as Arthur whispered Alfred's dilemma.

"Al, are you alright?" Kiku whispered softly, rubbing Alfred's back gently. Alfred looked at him, tears threatening. Suddenly, he sat up and pulled Kiku into a tight hug.

"God, please stop it! Please stop the noise! It's inside me, I don't know where it's from! but it hurts and I can't breath!" he sobbed grossly and sniffed.

Kiku nodded and ran his fingers through Alfred's hair. "Alfred, is it that kind of ringing once sometimes hears? It'll pass soon, but if it continues on too long, it may be tinnitus."

* * *

"As we all know, the Nordics are quite known for their powerful, majestic mystery. And I believe there's something that is ours we must get back. I have found this notebook, and it has greatly intrigued me..." Arthur cleared his throat and read from it.

"_Vah das grudder natiee, don paaver isk cacche dor," _He looked up at Francis, who looked intrigued. "It means, '_Go, the greater men. Your power is hidden here,' _I believe it means us, the greater men, have something for us hidden at these coordinates. '_Dor isk loon der drom, loon der drom et land der rood' _basically means 'Here is land of dream, land of dream and land of puzzle,'. I am not quite sure, but it must mean it is immensely beautiful and filled with keys to unlock whatever it is we have lost."

"And how do we know this isn't a fake journey? And if we do decide to go, how long will it take? Why now? It looks like you've had a lot of time with this book." Francis questioned, his hair was tied back and he had a cigarette at the tip of his lips. Alfred was sitting by Kiku, across from Francis, and he looked tired, but somehow excited.

Arthur smirked, "this is genuine, Iceland confirms of the existence of this spot, the journey should take about five days at maximum. I chose now because it is time for it,"

"Sweet, I love adventures! When do we go?" Alfred interrupted, smiling. Maybe this place would cure the horrible ringing. Or maybe it had something to do with the ringing.

"Get packed up today, we leave for the plane tonight. I already have tickets," Arthur nodded, "but..." his voice suddenly turned grave. "I chose now because there are men who wish to take this secret for themselves,"

"Why?"

"To kill us,"

They turned quite, "shouldn't we invite more people?" Kiku spoke up, only seeing himself and the three other men.

"Oh, don't worry! Iceland agreed to come along. I do believe more will be added as we journey on," Arthur said.

There was something odd about the man this day, he seemed to be hiding something, he looked anxious.

* * *

"I really don't trust how Arthur was acting," Kiku said to Alfred, packing lightly into a single bag.

Alfred shrugged and packed his own things. "Then why are you going?"

"... Dress well and comfortably. Get your wifebeater and those pants that can turn into shorts. Boots are also a good idea, as are sunglasses and a jacket," Kiku replied, ignoring the question, for he hardly knew the answer himself. Alfred got those clothes ready on command and looked Kiku over.

* * *

Arthur himself was getting ready, though he was not wearing anything high-tech, so to speak. He looked at himself in the mirror, cursing.

He already began changing. Several freckles dotted his nose and cheeks and several streaks of red lined his hair. "Guess it's time," he said to himself and took off all his clothing. He looked through his wardrobe, the one he hadn't opened in ages. It was smelled musty and of pine, the smooth wood felt fragile from it's old age. He shuffled through and found a light shirt. He put that on along with the leather-like pants.

Feeling as though it were the old, Celt days he placed all his ancient things into the bags. He took a long, thin one and placed in a bow and arrow, and prayed to the lords that his knives were still where he had hidden them.

Truth be it, he knew exactly where they were going. He had been there and buried his secrets. France also knew of these secrets, but he had long since forgotten them.

* * *

"Hej!" Iceland waved, seeing the four men come through the airport security. He was smiling and wearing old fashioned clothing, much like Arthur. Alfred did find this amusing. He would make a snark remark, but his head hurt to bad. Kiku gave him some medicine but nothing dulled the sound.


	2. Starting the Journey

Arthur smiled and waved back at Iceland, checking to make sure that the small pocket book was tucked tightly into his jacket. Francis was behind him and touched his hair gently. "Arthur, did you dye your hair?" he asked quite suddenly, causing Arthur to jump.

"Oh, by mistake..." he replied just as suddenly, batting away Francis's hand and blushing red. They looked at each other the Frenchman's eyes squinting and worried, Arthur's worried and anxious.

Iceland noticed the pause as it was clogging up the impatient travelers behind them. He grasped their sleeps and pulled them forward. They quickly said their words of apology to the men behind them and waited idly for Alfred and Kiku.

Kiku was fumbling with Alfred's hair and clothing. "You need to look presentable," he tugged on the jacket and brushed off some unseen dust. Alfred rolled his eyes but hugged Kiku all the same.

Iceland was starting to pale, looking around worriedly. "Hurry up, please, we need to go" he kept eyeing the door. Arthur felt Lucas's suddenly change in mood and felt worried himself.

After Alfred, Kiku, and Francis had everything all ready, Lucas lead them to the car. There, he opened the trunk quickly and shoved the belongings in. He hopped as if he had a sudden urge to urinate and hopped into the seat. He started the engine and road out.

"Why are you so freaked out, Ice?" Alfred asked, jerking an eyebrow up and hoping for an answer.

Iceland didn't answer, neither did Arthur. Instead they were fussing over the pocket book in hand in some strange dialect. It didn't sound anything like English or Icelandic, but it sounded quick pleasant. Like a rushing stream and the falling of snow.

Iceland shook his head and focused on driving while Arthur scribbled down notes. He held onto the notebook as if for dear life, he hardly had let it out of his sight. In fact, the entirety of the plane ride was spent reading and writing notes in that ancient looking script.

The drive seemed to go on for hours on end, until it felt longer than the plane ride. The other passengers didn't complain, Alfred was checking his email and Kiku reading a book he had brought. Francis, though, was watching the scenery flow by.

The big, bright city was long behind them, with no signs of industry in sight. Eventually, it cleared up into open land. The grass was green and mountains covered in foggy mist were surrounding them. The road was an old dirt road that seemed to not have been used for many years. After several minutes, the last sign of human interaction was a sign saying "opnu rými" or "open space".

"So, Iceland, is there nothing past that sign? Has this place not yet been urbanized?" Francis asked after staring out into the beautiful sky. It was still day time, but evening was not far off.

"Yep, by my orders of course," he answered and turned left.

Francis nodded and felt tired.

Night had set and the moon was shining above the beautiful hills and mountains when they finally pulled to a stop. Francis awoke when he felt the gently prodding against his cheek. He climbed out of the car and grabbed his bags. Arthur was wrapped up in what appeared as a fur coat, book in the inner pockets.

Iceland pulled out a key and pushed the door open. The cottage was old, with no visible plumbing or electricity. Alfred shivered and noticed the fire place, he headed to work on it, suddenly feeling at home. "it's like camping!" he grinned as the fire burst up and the room grew warmer.

Lucas and Arthur exchanged a few more words and the Nordic one headed back to the car. "So, we'll be staying here for the night," Arthur said, pulling out several sleeping bags and placing them near the fire. "This is an old house of Iceland's, he seldom ever uses it, so he never bothers to upgrade it. Though, it's nice and clean. There's a kitchen right over here..." he showed the others around as if he knew the place well by heart.

It was small and warmed up quickly, the walls were wooden and there were only two separate rooms. One room was with the fire place and was packed with all sorts of things, skiing and hiking equipment mostly. There was also a kitchen, but it required for a fire to be lit. There was a tea pot and some plates that were surprisingly clean. The floor was covered in all sorts of skins. The bathroom was outside, so the men went before heading to sleep.

Iceland came back from the car with a large black bag. "You all sleep, we are going to get things ready for tomorrow,"

It was hardly a challenge for the already exhausted and jet lagged men to fall asleep. Kiku lay close to Alfred, as is normal, and Francis curled up, humming a little to himself.

Arthur and Ice went to work, taking several hiking bags, which were very resourceful, and placed the personal items inside. As well as a gun and some ammo.

"Will we really need this?" Arthur asked, studying the double barrel in his hands.

"You can never be too safe," Iceland replied, "by the way, Arthur, do you want me to braid your hair now?"

Arthur sat up and looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was fully red now, red as fire, and down to his hips. "yes, that would be nice,"

"You know, Arthur, I still have it," Iceland said, smiling. Arthur looked at him and mimicked that smile, thanking him a million times over.

* * *

The morning was chilly and dew freckled the small plants outside the windows. Alfred picked up one of the cakes that sat on a platter and stuck out his tongue. "Ew! What is this, a scone?" he sniffed it and furrowed his eyebrows.

Kiku also looked it over, wincing at the obvious fat content. Francis shrugged and but right into his, and he found it surprisingly filling.

"It's a hard cake, many travelers at them in the old days, it has high fat content and should keep you full and energized for quite some time," Arthur replied, having eaten his.

"Norge should be here soon," Iceland commented, partly to himself. "When he gets here we head out,"

They gave some sounds of understanding and picked up the bags. Alfred unzipped his to put in some sunglasses. He browsed through the pockets until he came across the gun. "Um, hey, Arthur... What's this for?" he pointed to the jet black object.

"Just in case it comes in handy," Arthur replied somewhat absently, "You know... In case we come across something we need to dislodge and whatnot," he ignored anymore questions of the gun and opened up his book.

He read in silence until Norway came by. He was wearing a fur coat as well, and other comfortable looking clothing. He nodded to Iceland and called them all over.

* * *

Their journey began on car, until they reached the edge of the forest. "The rest is on foot, now!".

Alfred trudged shortly behind the two Nordics and Arthur. It was just then that the three others noticed the rat red braid. Francis tugged on it, to check for it's realness and raised an eyebrow. "Arthur...?"

"Oh, that... Uh, curse gone wrong," he coughed into his hand and said no more on the subject. The distrust the nations had was growing steadily and they wondered for a moment if they should even be there.

The forest grew denser, the trees were very tall, the top was hardly seen of the almighty pine. The grass under them was soft and dotted with tiny red flowers. It was truly grand to smell in the fresh pine and feel the cool forest air. Several rabbits and squirrels scurried by, giving odd looks to the group before scampering off on their way.

Several birds fluttered by, singing songs to one another and the light shimmered through the canopy of trees that grew denser and denser with each passing step. The golden rays spotted the floor, and it truly looked as though some fellow tripped and his gold flew in every direction.

Arthur suddenly stopped. "Do you hear that?"

The others looked around, trying to listen. Alfred, obviously, still could not hear anything over the buzzing in his head. He remained still and looked around, trying to cherish the beautiful scenery.

"Do you hear their voices? The trees sing, the valleys have ears, and the birds have merry tongues," Arthur chirped gladly, touching the trunks of the trees. "How has man the heart to destroy such wonder?" he whispered and ran his fingers through the bark.

The others nodded and Iceland grabbed onto a low hanging branch, pulling himself up and crawling as high as the limbs stood steady. He peered over and tried to locate the path they must follow. After several moments, he clambered back down. "If we head forward we ought to make it to the pass before dark. There is water there, and camping should be safe,"

And on they headed! Arthur tried to keep them occupied by pulling out a flute from his jacket. He played some joyful music as Iceland and Norway sung out into an ancient tune. The sound was merry and their hearts were high. The journey cleaned their lungs and they felt fresh.

Evening drew in as they reached the pass, just as Iceland had predicted. The water was clear and the bottom of it was seen easily. The trees formed a circle around the lake and there appeared to be a dirt road ahead. The group pitched a tent and settled in.

* * *

The night dragged on and the ringing was worse than ever. Alfred could have sworn the others heard the infernal donging of it all. He stood up and left the tent. After walking around the great lake and staring into it's crystal surface, the sound was screeching. He wished to cry out of horrible pain and wanted to throw himself on the ground and cry. The pushed a finger into his ear and rubbed and rubbed. The closer he got the the waters edge, the louder it became.

He grew fed up quickly and kicked a rock, it didn't budge and nearly broke his poor toes. He was bare down to his underpants, for reasons he didn't know. He hoped around before falling into the lake.

It was warm. The buzzing stopped. All sound stopped. All he could hear was singing. But it was very clear and very beautiful. It started as beautiful humming and turned into nonsensical sounding words that were similar to the words Arthur and Iceland had exchanged.

Alfred looked around in the clear turquoise water, trying to find the sound. All he could indicate were several fish and a few air bubbles from his own movements. The singing was warm and made him feel sleepy. Yes... Very tired. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth, forgetting he could not breath underwater...

He woke, gasping for air and sputtering water. He shivered and looked around, teeth gritting and head dizzy. "You idiot!" Arthur was yelling, also soaked and his face was twisted in rage. Kiku was looking at Alfred with tears in his eyes, he bent down and was trying to comfort the poor idiot.

"You let the water nymphs take you in! I know the buzzing in your ears was hurting, and I'm sorry! But you could have just told us it was hurting you," Arthur calmed down a little and shook his head, "I guess I should be sorry. I'm sorry for not doing something when I realized that it was hurting you,".

Alfred nodded and looked at his knees. "I guess I should have said something... But, what the hell are you talking about? What water nymphs? What was that singing? Why was I so sleepy?"

"Water nymphs are sprites of the lake, not spirits, but sprites saw that you were easily lured in. They grabbed the chance by the scruff, or ears should I say, and dragged you in. They wanted something to feast on, and they haven't eaten in a very long time. Your spirit is very strong, like a stallion, and they liked that." Iceland explained, handing a tower to Alfred, who nodded and warmed himself with the soft towel.

"We better get some more sleep before we head out again, it's hardly even morning," Francis said, looking at the sky. The northern lights danced around the sky, blue and green. It was cold and Alfred was freezing solid form being in only his undergarments.

* * *

When the sun finally woke up and began it's route around the sky, as it does in Northern countries, the group packed up and headed on the road. Alfred eyed the lake with distrust, wondering how such a peaceful thing could become so menacing in a matter of hours.

They reached an opening to a cage and Arthur motioned for them to stay back. He crawled inwards and his feet made not a sound. The cave vented in heat and there was a dim light at the end. When all was well, the floor was stable and nothing was hidden inside, Arthur called for the rest.

The ringing still annoyed Alfred, but he tried to hardest to ignore it, knowing that water nymphs wouldn't be the only ones to abuse it.

The inside of the cave seemed to drag on for at least a mile, until they finally reached an end. The walls were covered in silver words, and the center of the room held a small sword, which Arthur grabbed and smiled at.

Iceland and Norway looked about the room, trying to decipher the message.

Iceland translated the texts, "_O, only a step into thy journey hast been taken, many more steps must be taken to fulfill this walk, find ye the land of orange and boy thieves,_".

"Italy? Are we supposed to go to Italy?" Francis suggested, grinning.

Iceland nodded, "_come you in groups, which is growing with every piece of this puzzle, one will be lost, one will be drowned twice, one will thieve until they no longer know what is theirs, one will burn, and the others will perish with their own flaws. The last standing will wither away, even if thy glory is there,_".

Alfred felt as though his heart paused, and he swallowed hard. "Drown... Is that home I'm going to die?"

Iceland held up his finger, "_Even if not all ye perish, all would have died. For light is drowned in darkness,"_

__Arthur shuddered at the words, feeling tears burn his eyes. "Let's go," though, as he said this, he stayed behind. Turning towards the walls and touching the words, he felt a single tear file its way down his cheek.

"Dearest Peter, we won't make the same mistake twice,"


	3. A Cruise Through Italy

__"Let go!" Alfred cried hoarsely and shoved away the man who's white knuckles gripped the wheel,. The man slumped to the side and Alfred, young jock as he was, pushed away the man with his hip. He swiftly turned the plane in a vain attempt to elude enemy fire-only to crash into another plane.

Alfred found himself paralyzed and laying in a pile of ash, his body hurt in all directions and his head swam. His right had was still on the wheel, which he pulled away from the dead pilot, in a lousy attempt to save them both. It really was quite unfair of the soldiers to enlist Alfred in the first place, he was still a young nation. Just over 100, with a jock-stocky build, perfect hair, a overactive mouth and under-active eyes.

He was poor of sight, glasses were not the best looking and he felt quite ugly in them, but had a decent sense of hearing. All in all, his lack of total brains paid of in brawn with his inhuman abilities to lift mightily strong objects.

The whole reason he was in the hospital with several fractures and a broken heart, the whole reason he was in this war, was all due to some stupid overreactions to stupid mistakes. Feeling frail and wounded, he asked suddenly; "where's the pilot?"

The nurses who passed gave him doll-faced looks that said "ooh what a sweet boy," and read "sorry," all the same. Alfred grew irritable and asked again, "where is the goddamn pilot?!".

"He's goddamn dead, son! Got shot in the head, real tough blow," Alfred turned his head towards the rough southern accent and saw a large man with a rough beard. Alfred touched his own chin and found some light fuzz, but asked another question.

"Who are you?"

"Who are _you?_"

"I said who are you, you son of a bitch?"

"I'm the son of a bitch who you rammed into. I told the men we can't have the idiot boy drive a plane!"

Alfred tensed up, feeling tears spill from his eyes, but a sharp look from the man on the other side of him and he sucked the tears back in. He quietly started saying his prayers and searched his breast for his necklace.

The other man joined in prayer but the third, the one who spoke up first, was looking at them with a raised eyebrow. "And that will help now? Son, you got to give up, you're dying,"

"We're all dying," the other man paused and looked over at them both. He was a young brunette, soft voiced and very gentle looking. "Where else are we going?"

The other scoffed and Alfred woke up.

He found himself, head on Kiku's shoulder, and on a plane leading to Italy. "Another dream?" Kiku asked softly, looking up from the notebook in his hands. Alfred nodded and yawned, just in time to hear the lady announce that they were ready to land in Rome, Italy. The weather was nice, sunny and warm, and that she thanked them for flying with her.

"It was the one from World War two... Just before I finally grew up, so to speak,"

Kiku looked hurt but nodded, "yes, I know. Do you have the box?"

Alfred nodded and patted his jacket pocket. Arthur, and the Nordics sat on the other side of them. France was by Japan. It was a comfortable plane, no complaints, not that someone gives a bird dropping about how comfortable a plane ride was. Not even the joyful and pompous man who greeted the group with just that question, "how was the plane ride?".

Of course, he did not wait for an answer and lead them away. He was bright, bubbly, tall, not thin but not fat. He wore nice clothing and looked happy, always. So it was quite a scare to see the man's eye frown and him to lean down and grab the boy's arm.

"he! Let go!" he cried, a thin and wispy boy with bad teeth and messy hair glared and fought against the man, Mr. Giuseppe. The six nations watched the boy with little or no emotion, except for Arthur how was biting his lip and baring his sharp teeth.

He walked over and thanked Mr. Giuseppe several times, saying he'll handle the boy and that he should take the rest to the Vargas's. Giuseppe had a distrusting look upon his frank face, but agreed none the less.

When the car blurred out of distance, Arthur leaned down and held a hand open. "Hand it over, boy. I'm a far better thief than you will ever hope to be," he flexed his fingers.

Hardly tentative, the boy crossed his arms, watching the crowd closely for a swath in which he could flow through.

Arthur was not a patient man. "Hand. It. Over." he hissed and his eyes beamed red. The boy winced back this time and handed over a chain with a weak and trembling hand. Arthur grabbed it and dashed over him. crawling onto the roof. He poised at the top of the building, a small shop, one hand lifted like a cat.

He watched for a jet black car among bundles of red and blue ones. He spotted it and ran forward.

He was incredibly agile at this moment, gliding with ease over roof top, swinging across signs, and picking up any stray junk that lay unattended. In fact, he stole nearly everything that did not have a hand on it or a watchful eye.

He snickered to himself, and felt suddenly sick. Recalling the words "_One will steal until he does not know what is his_," from the cave turned his stomach and he almost put back the apple he had just stolen.

Almost.

Until he took a large bite out of it, and threw away the stem when he finished. He saw the boy from earlier watch him, eyes open in complete awe and breath short from running.

"Boy, I told you, you will never be as great a burglar as I!" having said that, he threw an apple towards the boy and leaped yet again upon the roof tops.

Sprinting over home and home, peeking in wherever someone happened to be undressing, male or female, and making a loud whistling noise, and he even went as far as to steal some garments.

He caught a woman off guard by snatching her shirt, and leaving the purse unharmed. He caught another man by surprise by pulling away his shoes.

The foolery was not done yet, he still had a long way to go before he reached the Vargas house.

One woman, who was talking with a friend was cut short by a small peck on the cheek from Arthur, and a young man, who was talking with who appeared as his girlfriend, was forced to let out a yell of horror when Arthur kissed his cheek.

Laughing in joy, Arthur slumped in an alley way, watching as a cat walked by. It came closer and he hissed back sharply, frightening the poor thing, and glowered his eyes.

"Oh, dearest me, Arthur, please don't scare me like that again!" The cat seemed to say, it was a ginger cat and was walking closer to Arthur.

Now, it was Arthur's turn to be stupefied. "I'm sorry, _what?" _

"You heard me," the cat bowed his head and a flash of white and orange changed him into a young boy, the same exact boy who Arthur forced to give up the key.

Arthur curled his toes and felt stupid.

"who are you?!"

_"I'm the pilot,". _


	4. It's Funny

Arthur was not sure how to react and simply accepted the strange answer. "Well, let's go."

He walked on, leaping back onto the roof. He turned to see if 'the pilot' was following him. He couldn't see him so, with an almost relived sigh, he headed onward.

* * *

By the time Arthur reached the others, the Italy brothers had agreed to join them.

Alfred was leaning against the door, watching the ocean from his view, and smoking a cigarette. He attempted to smoke a ring, failed, and shifted. He looked weary, troubled even, by some unexplained things. If anything, he looked older than he did a day before they began this mission.

"How's the buzzing in your ears?" Arthur asked, hardly making eye contact with anyone.

"It's there, but it doesn't hurt."

"That's good,"

"Yes, that's good,"

"Alfred?"

"What?" Alfred turned, eyes still tired and his face withdrawn from all the medication he'd been taking.

"Do you think this is a good idea?"

"the cigarette? I don't always smoke jus-"

"no! this mission, I feel as though..."

"As though you've sent us out on a wild goose chase, do you feel bad or something?" Alfred tried to look mad, but all he succeeded in was a stoned look.

"No! I mean... I-I... What if "

"There's no treasure?"

"Would you stop interrupting me?!" it was Arthur's turn to be angry, "Oh bloody hell, now I've forgotten what I was to tell you!"

Arthur looked comical, his features contorted in a look of cartoon rage and he pouted. "Either way, we better get going. Our plan leaves in two hours,"

* * *

Short lived, you might call it, was the trip to Italy. Before the group knew it, they were in some undefined part of the Northern Hemisphere again.

It was bitterly cold and the wind snipped at their skin.

Captain Bard, a tall man of possible Celt ancestry, sniggered when he noticed the clear looks of discontent on each of their faces. "Aye, you all ought to bundle up, it only gets colder from here on out,". Italy winced and looked at Romano, who was looking off into the distance.

"_Fratello, che cosa vedi?"_

_"Che?... Niente."_

_"È allora?"_

Romano didn't answer and crawled into the boat, allowing Italy to sit by him. He continued watching into the distance, hand hovering over his pocket.

Norway conversed with Iceland as well, who stared into the spot Romano seemed so enticed in. Iceland kept his mouth shut and listened to Norway's blabberings.

_"Hva vil vi gjøre hvis de finner oss?" _

Iceland looked at Romano, who looked back, and there was an unspoken agreement to stay silent.

_"Ekkert!_" he replied, gay smile proud on his face.

Italy and Norway looked towards the direction. The boat started moving with a low hum and they moved through the icy cold arctic. It began to snow tiny, fluffy flakes that lay on the tips of their noses and remained there. Truly, such a sea looked beautiful, the water was a calm, yet glassy blue and various icebergs floated around them. The sky, which was a blinding white moved on, seemingly forever, and soon it was nearly time.

France looked up from his feet and spotted Canada on the distant shores. Sure, he hardly paid mind to the small nation otherwise. Maybe it was the awful weather or the food.

_"Canada! Finalement une âme sensée, qu'est-ce qui continue ici ?"_ he cried, shoulders slumped and smile penetrating his otherwise hopeless face.

_"Vous ne savez pas ?" _Canada cried back, smiling awkwardly and wincing back at France's sharp reply.

_"Non je ne fais! Dites-moi maintenant qu'est-ce qu'arrive."_ France hissed, looking ready to burst into a fit of curses.

Canada winced, not used to being spoken to so harshly, or being spoken to at all. He looked at Alfred, "do you know what's going on, eh? Did Arthur not tell you?"

"No, but he sure damn told you, huh?" Alfred huffed, trying to light another cigarette. Kiku sighed and placed a hand on Alfred's, telling him softly that it was a poor choice.

France regarded Canada coldly, "_Bien? Et en suite...?"_

_"Ah, oui... Si fondamentalement nous cherchons une carte qui devrait être cachée ici. La légende l'a qu'il est fixé dans une sorte de puzzle." _Canada waved to the small house behind them.

"Puzzle? I heard puzzle," Alfred replied, "are we Indiana Jones or something now?"

Canada laughed dryly, "No, it's embedded in the floor boards, most likely, but keys and all. Whoever hid this 'treasure' or whatever, knew very well what they were doing. I think Arthur has the key, right?"

But Arthur was no where in sight.

_"Merde" _France spat, thoroughly annoyed.

In fact, Arthur was inside the small building (being attracted to warmth, he made a run for it) and was working away on the floor boards. They were written with all sorts of languages on each floor board.

Arthur had struck gold, and lifted away a piece of thin wood that was written on with French, _"c'est bizzare vraiment"_. Under it looked like the beginning of a long stair case, he moved on to the next board, written on with English, _"that only when things turn bad," _another piece of the stairs showed through. He stacked the boards he removed, hoping for the others to translate the nonsense written on them.

The next was in Italian, _"Saranno finalmente realizzare" _and afterwards Spanish, _"que ellos necesiten el uno al otro". _The board that revealed the stairs fully had German on it, carved in just like the others, but much heavier. _"Das ist wirklich komisch"_

__The others walked in and the peculiar floor boards were forgotten.


	5. Riddles in the Snow

The stair case, grand as can be, lead down and down for what seemed like forever.

When they finally reached the end, it was quite clear that someone had been there not too long before, or at least it seemed the way. In the middle sat a lonely candle and brightened the entire room warmly. There were books lining each crevice and jammed into each nook. Some books lay open by the candle, abandoned suddenly. It was A Journey To The Center Of The Earth, opened to the middle and fresh opened by the looks of it.

Most books looked relatively new, the newest appeared to be a copy a war novel and even a copy of Common Sense lay by a record player. The room was something one would find in a mystery novel.

"Hello? Anyone there?" Kiku called politely, hands behind his back. He figured anyone who sits in a room alone just to read isn't a bad person. Or, at least, they would be wise enough not to attack.

"H-hello...?" the sound came from a small girl, short brown hair, standing behind the stairs. She looked frightened, under 14 years old, and wore a comfortable looking gown.

"What are you doing here all alone, little lady?" Alfred smiled and bent down to look at her. She shrunk back and gazed her great brown eyes to the floor.

"I live here..."

"Alone?"

She nodded and Alfred noticed her leg, which stood as if it had been broken and healed poorly. Which, it was.

Canada, smiling and face gentle, earnestly spoke to the girl in a low voice. France, who was looking at all the records and the books felt quite uneasy about this. It was a little girl, claiming to be alone, in the middle of nowhere.

_"Que faites-vous ici, chouchou ?" _France spoke up, looking at the girl with a faux smile.

_"Je vis ici" _she replied again, as if it were as obvious as her toes.

_"Non, non, je veux dire pourquoi êtes vous vivant ici dans l'Arctique ? Où est votre famille?" _he replied just as obviously, the small grin from the girl threw him off, but nothing surprised him.

_"Mes réponses sont limitées. Vous devez poser les questions correctes." _Her eyes, dark brown still, stared at each individual in the room. "How do you even know if I am alive?"

"If you were dead than you would be dead. You wouldn't be talking to us," Alfred answered bluntly, shaking his head.

"That's not what I mean, look at your watches,"

They did as she asked and found that the second hand or numbers had stopped.

"Time flows by, but the clock still reads the same,"

_"Questi sono gli enigmi" _Italy whispered to his brother suddenly, only to be shoved sharply in the side.

"But, all your watches don't read the same to one another. Motion is relative, to the floor I am moving," she walked in a small circle, "to my hands I am not. To the Earth I am not. So, tell me, what is the time right now?"

"That question had no relevance to the problem! That's not enough information to solve this," Alfred pointed out, looking for Arthur.

Arthur was in front of the girl, "alright, riddles you want, riddles it is,"

She hissed and moved around the stairs, appearing as a boy on the other side. "Ohh yiss, we likes riddles!"

Arthur bit his lip and nodded, "The poor men have me, the rich men want me, and if you eat me you die,"

"too easy!" the being walked around the stairs again, appearing as a girl again. "Nothing! No, my turn, what is my name? I am there when you don't see me, I am not there when you open your eyes, and I am the basis of an atom!"

"Who told you you could use science?!"

"My game! My rules!"

"Fine, EMPTINESS!"

"ooohhh yess yess. Your turn!"

Arthur looked down and around.

"Who makes it sells it, who buys it does not use it, who uses it does not know!"

Emptiness looked dumbfounded and pursed her lips.

"You're running out o-"

"NO NO!" she shrieked, "A COFFIN!"

Arthur huffed and glared at her.

"A man and his wife go to a theater, he kills his wife and leaves without anyone noticing, how?"

"NO FAIR NO FAIR! WHAT IS A THEATRE!"

Arthur pointed to a book that lay on the top of the shelf. Iceland noticed and quickly (but stealthily) walked over and grabbed it. When he and the others made a run for it, Arthur waved his hand and cried, "well, well! Looks like your out of time!"

She looked dumbfounded and gave out a piercing yell when she noticed the book was gone, "GET BACK HERE YOU FILTHY CREATURES!" she chased them up the stairs and the managed to slide out the door.

Most of them, at least. Norway was grabbed by the leg, he called for the others, but his voice was lost to the wind. He reached out, but the others were but a dim silhouette in the snow. He was dragged down, his clothing ripping along jagged wood and he began bleeding from several wounds.

Completely and utterly shocked, he began to cry. The cuts stung him deeply and he wondered how his so-called friends could leave him.

"Oh now, don't cry," she said, smiling. "If they wanted you, they would have heard you scream,"

Norway wiped his tears and nodded, still desperate to know why they left him so. Suddenly filled with rage he stood up, "no! They'll come back!"

"Alright," Canada said, panting heavily, "is everyone here?"

"NORGE!" Iceland yelled, looking around and tears threatening his eyes. "NORGE!" he made a run for it back, though already winded, he pressed onward.

The sharp snowflakes rasped against his skin he was sure he was ready to bleed. He came to find that there was nothing there.

No house, no warmth. Nothing but a pile of broken wood. Pieces of Norway's clothing lay on them, along with droplets of blood. "no..." Iceland picked up a certain fabric that was coated in red. "no..."


	6. Mortality

Norway was left alone, no one ever came back. He could vaguely here "NO! NORGE!", but eventually those cries died away and Norway labeled them as his own dreaded hope.

He spotted a corner, which seemed warm enough, and curled up in it. He close his eyes and fell asleep, trying to let go of all the disgusting feelings molding inside his mind.

When he finally woke up after a very disturbed slumber, he found himself completely alone in the dark. The wind howled from above and all he could find were the scattered floor boards in front of him. He didn't feel cold, he felt warm. A fear of hypothermia came over him, and he checked his fingers. Happy, they were all still there and fine. What bothered him most was the source of this heat.

There was no fire lit, the only light was a pale blue one that came from cracks in the surface. "hello?" he called out, pushing his hair out of his face and looking around.

There were no books left, and the room looked again as though it was an abandoned ware house, not a cabin full of books. There were no books, only an endless storage area.

A selfish thought came over Norway, what if he found this treasure here? Would he keep it? They did leave him...

Sadly, or perhaps happily, treasure was no where to be seen. The storage room, Norway assumed so because of the boxes, was grey and seemed vacant.

Until he heard the gunshot.

"PUT YOUR HANDS UP! WHO IS THERE?"

Norway put his hands up instantly and looked around, ready to tear up again. This was so unlike him.

"N-Nor...Noah! The name is Noah!" He replied, fake names seemed to do well in most cases. "I... I got lost... Where am I?"

Who was holding up the gun was a large man of about thirty-something. His blue eyes didn't trust this 'Noah'. "You're in America's Most Trusted storage unit, M. E. F. for short, though I never understood that acronym... Anyway, why are you here? This is private property!"

"Like I said, I got lost! It was cold-"

"Cold? You idiot, it's summer,"

"-and dark and I had no idea where I was going so I stumbled in here," Norway was prideful of his quick lying abilities. He did feel strange, though. Like a swelling inside his stomach.

"Were you on any drugs, sir?"

Norway raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "No, I was camping with my friends and then they left me," Norway's face grew vengeful, swelling with a blooming anger that could hardly contain itself his pretty face.

"Well, you sure are a pretty boy," the man's voice was threatening and Norway noticed for the first time that this man was not in fact wearing any sort of uniform, the gun in his hand was fake and he certainty did not look like a worker.

Norway stepped back, hands dropping and his eyes widening in fear. "Thank you...?"

"I might let you off the hook, Noah,"

"You don't work here,"

"no, but I can yell that you are a thief,"

"... you bastard."

"So..." the speed was tremendous and the large arm nearly cut off all circulation in Norway's arm.

"THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!" Norway kicked and screamed.

"I lied, Noah, just like you did. This is the_ Mortality Experiments Faculty..." _Norway looked like he was ready to cry again. This could. Not. Be. Happening.

"I didn't li-MMPH!" Norway was gagged and dropped to the floor.

"We usually have low-life people do this, but it's nice to have this little pretty thief, for a change. Now tell me, who are you?"

Norway started crying again, where were these friends? He would kill them! If he got out alive, that is. How dare they leave him, make him cry several times, and lead him to this brutal hell?!

The agony was clear on Norway's blue and teary eyes. The man sighed, "tell me, what are you doing here?!"

"That's enough," a woman's voice called out. She was tall, had ebony hair that reached her hips, and wore a simple expression. She looked like that mean nanny who was only business and never let you play, except much younger. "I said that's enough, I will handle him."

The man reluctantly let go of Norway and shoved him heavily. Norway was on his knees, looking at the shoes of the woman. She was not the one to kneel down to his height, hug him, and tell him everything will be alright. Which is something Norway desperately needed at the moment.

Instead, she pierced his shoulder with a syringe and he felt dizzy. His head swam and the world flexed in and out of vision, blurred and bright colors came into his vision. He knew he was drugged, but somehow stopped caring.

Norway woke up to find himself in a different storage room, he sat tied to a chair this time. He looked around to find that the woman stood in front of him, her face still without a hint of kindness and her eyes glaring.

"Norway, Norway... Why are you named after a country? And why won't you die?"

Norway couldn't answer, the gag still cut off his breathing.

She grunted. "We tried everything. We slit your wrists, we over drugged you... Maybe you have to be awake to die," she grinned suspiciously.

He had hardly a moment to gasp when his throat was sliced open. Hot tears threatened his swollen eyes again. The girl, the one who captured his leg and got him in this mess, stood in the corner, mocking him.

The blood seeped through the wound, and stung like handsanitizer on a paper cut. It slowly closed up and he felt himself breath again. The woman glared.

"Why don't you die?" she questioned, her lips pursed in a deformed heart shape. "Who are you?"


	7. Nala

Indeed, it was a difficult time for Iceland after Norway's sudden and mysterious disappearance. Hardly a moment passed where Iceland was not crying or calling out for his brother. Though he did not often show his compassion for his big brother, it was there, and it was very real.

"God, Iceland! He's gone! I'm sorry but—" Alfred exasperated, only to be cut off by a sharp slap from the small and Icelandic nation.

"SHUT UP! How would you feel if you lost Japan or Canada?!" Iceland cried out, tears streaming down his face and his nose running.

Alfred looked over at Kiku and Mathew; they were looking at him with earnest faces. The American bit his lip and looked down at his hands. He felt stupid suddenly and didn't know how he would react. The emotions were too strong and he dismissed them quickly.

Japan made a move to comfort Alfred, but drew back, suddenly quite wary of his presence. He felt uncomfortable and drew away.

They were sitting in a circle inside a large, wooden cabin. The floor was lined comfortably with animal hide and the windows showed the snowing outside world, which was in fact a ski resort.

Their small circle took up a corner near the glowing fireplace, and each man was snuggly wrapped in jackets or blankets.

Other visitors at the park walked near them, chatting and going up towards their room. A group of giggling girls sat watching our group, they arranged themselves in a similar circle, drinking hot coco and talking about boys, skiing, school, and anything else young females talk about.

Besides the selected families, teenagers, and other various guests, the place seemed quiet and there wasn't much business, it was still spring time.

Iceland was out of tears and stood up to fetch himself some tea, perhaps the warmth would help him cope. He dragged himself slowly and sorely towards the small table, he wiped his face and kept his head down, not wanting to look anyone in the face. His lip quivered and his legs trembled, threatening to fail him.

"Oh, darling, are you okay?" a kind voiced woman asked.

Iceland looked up at the plump woman with fierce red hair and gentle eyes.

"I'm fine…"

"You don't look it, sweety. Do you want me to get you something? Tea? Tell me where you're sitting and I'll bring it right on over for you, deary."

Iceland was surprised by such kindness and pointed over to his spot. "Thank you, ma'am, but you really don't have to do this!"

"But I insist!" she giggled and shook her head, "but, I see what you mean. 'What does this strange woman want from me?' is what you're thinking of right now, huh? First off, I'm not doing this just because I love helping out others, because I do… But, pardon me for over hearing, because I heard about your poor brother. I feel this same pain…"

He voice drifted off and her expression grew sad. The expression reminded Iceland of a rainy day.

"My name is Nala, by the way!"

"My name is Lukas," he lied, "it is very nice to meet you,"


	8. The Great Spirit

Canada watched Iceland talk to the woman with little interest; he felt very tired suddenly and decided to head outside.

The air was warmer than he was used to. He had walked out unnoticed, like he often does. He trusted his instinct to carry him onwards, as he got lost in his thoughts.

He wondered what in the world was going on, first off. What was Arthur planning? Where was Arthur? Was that jerk planning for them to lose Norway like that? What exactly was it that they had to find? Furthermore, why did he drag everyone into it?

He assumed that perhaps Arthur had good intentions; the nation really didn't seem to show off any signs of malice, at least not this far. Or perhaps Arthur was just that good of a liar, and he wanted to kill all the nations and regain that power he had three hundred something years ago.

Canada was so deeply engrossed in his mind that he hardly noticed himself exit the ski resort. He was staring at the ground and heaved a great sigh.

Why wasn't anyone calling for him? He was enraged suddenly, and overcome with a will to sob his heart out. Maybe that's how Norway was feeling, they didn't pause to look behind them and see if someone was left behind.

The realization was so true and realistic to Canada that he stopped in his tracks and shook his head. He felt as though he had betrayed a close friend, even if he hardly knew the man.

The sun was setting and it was growing colder, the resort was nowhere in sight and sounds of animals was growing around him. Scared, he began running and tripped over something.

Right was left, north was south, everything jumbled up in his mind and he was calling out for help.

No one came and he remained untouched in the ice, his foot encases still inside the gaping hole in the ice.

Eventually the sky grew completely dark and stars began to shine, and a low and earth-shaking grumble sounded behind him.

"oh god no," Canada breathed, closing his eyes and praying whatever was behind him would not see him.

He peeked out from beneath his hood when the sound seemed to have faded away.

Then he saw her.

A huge white bear and it frightened the living daylights out of Canada. He scrambled, trying to move from out of the ice and he opened his mouth to scream. His voice was gone and he was paralyzed with fear, how was a polar bear even in this part of the world?

"Don't kill me!" He grumbled, trying to sit up.

"Now, why would I do that?"

Canada looked around, "who said that?!" he called, and then he regretted that, thinking it would anger the great bear.

"Silly, I said that, why are you out here? You're friends are worried sick," it seemed that the bear was speaking to him.

Canada let out a yelp and stared directly at her.

"I'm Nala,"

"The nice lady from the shop?"

She laughed a low a fierce sound that shook the ice. "Don't you fear, I won't lay a claw on you, well, at least I personally won't. I don't know if The Great Spirit will."

"Great Spirit? Can't you just help me get my foot out, and I can go?"

"No, you know too much!"

"I can keep qui—"

"No, tell me how you know our tongue, human!" she roared, clearly annoyed by Canada's attempt at being witty. She leaned in closer, her big black nose sniffing him cautiously. "Are you even human?"

Canada nodded awkwardly, and they both looked up at the sky.

Light danced across the sky in warm colors, which formed vague shapes before deciding on a bear.

"Who is this, Nala?" it said, with a voice completely unfitting in nature. It was gentle and gracefully echoed around the sky.

"I do not know his name, but he is not human, he appears to have the body of one. Perhaps he is a sort of daemon?"

"A daemon? His soul is too pure for such… It appears he is burdened with a great journey. His heart is strong and his eyes are honest, and it appears his mission is filled with great sorrows,"

Canada looked towards the spirit, both thankful and shy. It was very beautiful and breathtaking that he hardly paid attention to the words.

The light flickered and swam down towards Canada, who was no free from the ice. It appeared in a form of a glowing woman, with bright blues and oranges swirling around an outstretched hand. Canada grabbed it and he felt his gloves burn off.

"Your friends will be afraid," she whispered and Canada felt a sudden warmth boil up inside of him, it burst through and he felt a sugary sensation run through his veins.

He felt as though he were glowing and a sudden burst of light and warmth through him higher up into the air.

He slowly fell down back to earth, feeling himself grow larger and heavier.

When he landed, he looked at his feet, which were no longer feet. He found he had transformed into a large Polar Bear. Shock ran through him, before excitement and curiosity set in.

He looked towards the sky and cried a "thank you!" (which was really just a snort) but found no Nala nor Great Spirit.

Instead, he saw Arthur stand in front of him. Arthur still had his impish features and red hair, but seemed taller somehow.

"I'm surprised, Canada, I didn't know you were a bear,"

Canada growled and replied with "But I am not a bear!"

"Yes, Arthur, and I'm not an Elf." He laughed, "I think you've found the treasure already. I hope the other nations get their soon enough, we're running quite low on time."

"Where are we going next? Because if it's by plane I don't think they're letting me in,"

"You'll see in time. Now! Let me hope on your back," Arthur clambered over onto the large animal and held on tightly. "Run! You're much faster now,"

Canada admitted that curiosity was overwhelming and he pushed forward, running at an unbelievably fast speed. He reached the ski resort in no time, but stopped outside the gates.

"I can't go in and you know it!" Canada growled, suddenly wary of his large body.

Arthur nodded solemnly, "very well, I'll bring them over, are you hungry by chance?"

"Well now that you mention it…"

Arthur snickered and ran forward into the cabin and Canada slowly made his way behind the fence and lay down, paws over his bluntly black nose. He wondered then, what exactly are the nations?

The group walked over, and Norway was along with them. "So that's where you headed off to, Arthur!" Alfred cried with glee, happy to see the blonde boy that Arthur had brought back after suddenly vanishing after they ran out of the cabin.

"THERE'S A BEA—" Japan covered America's mouth gruffly, "shush!"

Canada lifted his head and started speaking to America, trying to explain quickly the amazing events. All America heard was, "roarrgrrrraiarar!", something along those terms. It was clear to Canada that Arthur was the only one who could understand him, and he felt sad suddenly. He could not communicate with his brother.

"Oh drat! I knew I should have gone to China…" Arthur hissed, "ah, we'll make due, boys! Are you ready for more travelling? Norway?"

Norway huffed and bowed his head, in a great flash of light he changed into a large wolf.

Now, think of your car, and imagine a wolf that big. It is white with red markings along its snout. This is vaguely what Norway looks like now, but much more beautiful.

"I will be on Canada's back and the rest hope onto Norway's!"

"The hell is going on?" America pondered but crawled on regardless.

They ran forward into the night, watched over by The Great Spirit who wished them well on their journeys.


	9. The Heart of Bear Is Honest

There's nothing like a rainy day to dampen one's spirits and set them spinning into a depression the size of a roller coaster. The gloomy skies and dark shadows suck the motivation and cause for lethargic minds. At the very least it did give Canada's sore legs a chance to relax.

He lay, in his own human form, next to Norway in a deep sleep that would not be easily disturbed. Arthur had spotted a cabin on the outskirts of America's border and lead them all inside. There, Iceland set up a fire and Japan helped put in place something comfortable to sleep on.

There was a musty smell of farm animals in the air that possible lingered from the eighties, but otherwise it was vacant of any life besides the few mice that scampered along the home.

Japan felt a throbbing twitch behind his right eye whenever he spotted one and felt a sudden need to pounce and capture it.

America couldn't help but notice Japan's consistent annoyance with the creature and wanted to help him somehow.

Arthur gave off a cunning smile and called them all over to sit in a circle as they had done before. They left Canada and Norway, who were drained beyond measure from the long trip and the heavy load of nations on their backs, in the warm spot behind them.

The red head cleared his throat but said nothing for several moments. In those moments, no one spoke, and the only sounds were the calm pitter-patter of water on the roof and the sleeping Nation's soft snores.

"You all are wondering what happened to those two and I," Arthur whispered. The others nodded and snuck a quick glance at Norway, who was moving similarly to a dog dreaming of chasing rabbits.

"It would be nice if you could tell us just what was happening," America whispered back, leaning forward.

"Well, that's too bad! I haven't the slightest idea myself," Arthur laughed and shook his head playfully. This exasperated France, who was trying to keep his calm further.

"At least tell us what we're looking for," Japan suggested, feeling tired.

Arthur's expression grew somber and he shifted into a more serious position. "Why are we alive? Why have we been alive for so long? This is what a certain group of people wish to learn. They want to find out how our mortality works, and get this secret! Sadly, I don't know this answer, but I do know we cannot let them have it…

"My knowledge goes as far as this; our lives are embedded in other spirits, and there is one spirit that outweighs the rest. This large spirit is often a strong myth of our culture. I am an elf, as Celtic culture may go, Canada is a Great Bear Spirit, or something along those lines, and Norway is a Wolf Spirit. You all, I won't tell you because it'll spoil everything! Now, here's when things change.

"There is something more than just these select humans who want this secret, well it's not a secret, but these humans are not exactly the ones who got this idea. These humans hardly know who we are; all they know is that there are immortals and that their leader wants to their power. We cannot allow for this, I don't know much more on this subject, but I do know that America, you're greater spirit will be revealed very, very soon. Goodnight! We all need some sleep,"

With a quick smile, Arthur crawled over to the haystack and was out in an instant. America dreamt of his spirit.

His spirit was a large, brown, powerful grizzly bear with a strong muzzle; it was somewhat smaller than how Canada appeared but fiercer and faster.

Tossing and turning in his sleep, he felt his heart beat faster and his head ache. Large black cause pushed themselves out of his hands and he grew warmer and heavier. His growling and yells of pain woke the others; Canada was the first to wake and ran towards America, carrying his heavy limbs as fast as he possibly could.

He put a gentle hand on America's snout and whispered soothing words that were empty of sense but calming all the same. America's large eyes opened and they looked directly at Canada, who did not flinch (he knew very well that his bear-form was bigger than this Grizzly, and he could turn back on demand). Howling in pain the large and clumsy bear tripped back and landed on his rump, looking confused and scared. He lifted his paws and flexed them, feeling mighty.

Japan walked back from a calming stroll and gave a scream of surprise when he noticed America. Frozen by fear he was unsure whether or not to run back or forwards. Canada turned and waved at Japan, "don't worry, he's safe,"

America felt like a big oaf when he looked down at his small and frail partner. He leaned downwards and Japan held out a hesitant hand. America nuzzled Japan's cheek and gave a low growl.

Canada giggled and urged Japan on, "don't worry! he'll be back to human soon! The first transformation is always quite strange." The smaller man, who was quite wary of his size when standing next to the large man and the even larger grizzly bear, gave a silent nod and hugged America. He buried his face in America's bushy hair and was dry of words, more so now than ever before.

Morning came and the fog had cleared up, Japan woke to find himself in the human America's arms, quite relieved and still flustered, he kissed the blonde man awake.

"H-huh?" very smart, America chastised himself. He kissed Japan back quickly and stretched to take a look at the others.

"You were loud," Norway remarked coldly, crossing his arms in front of him.

"Hey, you never told us, Norway, where were you?" Iceland said, voice wavering with worry.

Thus Norway catapulted into a quick summary of his adventures in the cabin and the ware house and M. E. whatever-it-was-called, but left out the crying he had done. "And then, as I was left alone in that horrible and smelly place, I fell asleep and I was visited by a wolf. Gee, scary, yeah. And so then I was a wolf myself, and taking this opportunity I jammed through and ran out. It was strange… I think I was in the middle of a desert or something. Then Arthur found me, and where do we go now?" his voice remained the same monotonous tone throughout his quick interlude.

All eyes turned towards Arthur, who blushed under the influence. "Well, since we're done here in America, we should just get over to Europe as fast as we can!"

* * *

America did not enjoy the plane ride. Still being new to this whole "transformation" situation, and not catching along as well as Canada and Norway. He feared he would growl when he spoke, so he did not speak. He feared that his claws would appear randomly so he kept his hands in his pockets. He feared that airport security would detect his claws so he didn't put his hands in his pockets. Most of all, he feared he would unintentionally hurt Japan, or someone else, but especially Japan.

Japan had begun to show signs of changing into his spirit and they were vague and appeared at random intervals. Japan's eyes would flash green, he would be ticked off at the small sounds, but the strangest was his sudden fondness for being touched.

He nuzzled up to America the entire plan ride, begging for his back to be scratched. America obliged and gently rubbed the requested area, slightly troubled by the purring Japan emitted.

No, he didn't mind Japan's strangeness; he minded that other people would think of his darling poorly.

Luckily, no one seemed to pay any attention whatsoever towards the odd behavior of the Asian Nation. They did look their direction when America's stomach growled loudly. It was a sharp growl that did not seem human, but like a wild animal.

"Wow! Boy am I starving, I bet the whole plain heard that…!" America said, rubbing his stomach and worrying himself pale. Some laughed, some whispered to each other, and some didn't even bother themselves with the issue.

When the food did arrive, America had to restrain himself from gorging himself nastily. It took all his will power and focus to pick up the fork and eat like a civilized man. This first battle was difficult, but the victory went to America. He slowly and carefully began to eat the food in front of him, which was a chicken dish with spinach and rice to the side. He brought the juicy and tender looking slice of chicken into his sharp teeth and bit in slowly. Chewing with as much restraint as he could, he piled some of the green leaves and rice into his fork and pushed that in as well. When the long a treacherous journey through the meal was completed and won, America rewarded himself with a large swig of beer to wash it all down.

Japan closed his eyes and gave his thanks for the food. America soon found himself praising the sun and Great Spirits for such a good meal. It was by instinct and America felt himself mean each word. The stewardess came by and picked up their plates, and as soon as she did so, Japan placed his head on America's shoulder and fell asleep, looking peaceful and quite beautiful.

America felt at ease, for the time being.


	10. The South and West

In the interest of time, I will not go into full detail over what happened to our group—as it is quite uneventful and in bad taste to go on about the various people they saw. It is tasteful, though, to mention that they have collected China (a dragon), Sweden (an Arctic fox), Finland (a lion), Spain, and Denmark (both are nothing, as far as we know). They dropped by Poland and Russia, but both refused to join, and quite profoundly at that.

"What? No way! I'm fine living right here, no adventures for me," Poland had stated flatly, though looking nervous. Russia simply declined the offer with an "I'd rather not" and that was that. The group knew very well to not pester on.

Arthur moved on quickly, in his best interest to get going before the full heat of summer set in. He lead the others to a cave in a mountain in possible the most remote place on Earth. The cave smelled lovingly of old socks and rotting meat, though it was doubtful anyone bothered coming to such an area. The horrid smell gagged Japan, who turned to a fox, and caused the already fragile boy to feel dizzy. The cave led on for what seemed as an eternity, delving deeper and deeper into the mountain as possible.

Just as Romano was ready to throw his blade on the ground in defeat, a warm light emitted from a passageway. "Come now!" Arthur called and ran into the warmth. The others followed.

Where they ended up was breath-taking. There were lush trees and green grass and flowers as far as the eye can see. Alfred was almost sure he had died and gone straight up to heaven, but the low howl that put his hair on end told him otherwise.

"Oh bloody—"Arthur managed to yell but was cut off by a furry of grey attacking him from behind. He let loose a sharp cry and a scramble of growls and hisses cut him off. The others stood dumbfounded, watching Arthur fight off what appeared to be a very ugly and large grey cat. Its powerful shoulder blades shifted and recoiled when Arthur planted a sharp blade into the humongous paw that clawed at his body.

When the cat finally drew back, they saw that it was no cat at all. It certainly had the body of one, but the face was like a squashed pumpkin, a black nose in the middle, beady eyes on the side, and a large mouth hanging off the bottom. Sharp teeth were bared and it turned towards the others.

Denmark was first to react. He grabbed his axe, which he strapped to his back, and swung it at the ugly beast. In a fit of roaring and yells, the battle raged on. Denmark surprised Sweden with his aim, but it was not enough. The beast had strong muscles and the axe hadn't been used for such a long time it had grown dull. Feeling suddenly engaged in battle, and on reflex, Finland grabbed a bow from his pack and an arrow that so kindly was on a rock and shot at it.

Hitting the eye and a bit more, the blow was sufficient. The cat shrieked and slumped over. Its blood was black and it appeared to have died.

Arthur looked it over in upmost displeasure. "What kind of mind has a Criner got here? Attacking me of all things…!" He picked up the arrow and threw it back to Finland. Finland grabbed it and his eyes were glazed over, appearing to be in a state of shock.

"Oh, yes. Welcome to Mother Earth!" Arthur held his hands up, and the others got a view for a land so familiar to them it almost hurt.

The mountains stood and pointed at the sky with bright green noses, the trees, pine, oak, and even some apple trees, dotted said mountains. With a grin, Arthur waved his hand and beckoned them all onward. "You're all tired, I'm sure. Let us get some rest…"

The land is very beautiful, the grass was tall and tickled their knees and the water was purer than any water they have seen in decades. When they arrived at the purest looking lake, they all stripped down and hopped in for a bath. The water was cool to the touch and for once they forgot about their homes.

Arthur was very happy to see this all play out, and closing his eyes he smiled. _"I haven't failed you this far, have I, Peter? Now let's see how the rest plays out… "_He whispered to himself, just quiet enough so the others would not hear. He slipped away, as his kind tend to do so easily, without a sound.

He came back just in time, the others were finally done bathing and were looking for somewhere to dry their wet bodies off. Arthur through them some lush towels and carried a bag to the center of the circle they had formed. Circle forming was nearly a habit for them by now.

The bag, brown and worked, held clothing and weapons, each designated to a certain person. "Where did you get this?" Sweden asked, pulling on the comfortable clothing and examining the sword in his hands. It was long and curved, made of fine silver. Arthur didn't answer, but tapped his nose.

Finland practice hid bow and arrow, which he found he was incredibly good at, on low-lying branches. Alfred swung around his club at rocks. Japan was holder of another bow and arrow. Romano and Spain had a spear, Denmark his axe, China and Iceland a knife, Sweden a scepter and France a long sword. Italy found himself with a flute and a vile.

"Am I supposed to play them a song to death?" he joked, looking at the thin metal object that rested delicately on his fingertips.

"All in good time, my lad," Arthur said sleepily. "Sleep, you are safe now…"

Italy took gladly took up watch duty. When he was certain they were all in a deep slumber, he got up and walked to the opposite end of the lake. Wetting his lips, he began playing the flute.

It came naturally, just as Finland knew to shoot the arrow, and it was beautiful. The song was of an ancient melody, something not even the earliest Italians knew. It didn't fit any culture of the modern world. Italy couldn't exactly make out what it was, or what it meant, but all he knew was that it brought comfort to him. When the song finished, he came back and found Denmark waking to take his shift.

"I heard your song, Italy," he whispered, "do you remember the words?" Italy shook his head, and Denmark spoke louder. He woke Sweden and Finland, who kept their eyes open to watch the two talk. "Well… Here it goes…"

_"I hear your voice on the wind_

_And I…_

_Hear you call out my name_

_'Listen my child' you say to me, 'I am the voice of your history'_

_'be not afraid and come to me.'_

_'be not afraid and I'll set you free…'_

_'I am the voice of the wind and the pouring rain, I am the voice of your hunger and pain'"_

Alfred and Arthur sung along, waking the rest. Arthur roared with laughter, "let the merry-making begin, then!" They cooked up their meat and Italy continued to play his flute. Arthur played his pipe and several got up to dance. The fire, now replenished by Iceland's skillful hands, blazed and warmed them.

Spain, France, and Arthur, recalling their pirate days, enlightened them with a pirate's sung.

_"The king and his men, stole the queen from her bed._

_And bound her in her bones_

_The seas be ours and by the powers_

_Where we'll roam_

_Yo-ho, hoist the colours high…" _

They cheered when the song drew to an end, some said it was too dreary and they called for a more joyous song. And thus they delivered.

Spain closed his eyes and sung softly. _"Como me apena verte llorar"_

Then the two Italy brothers, "_Stringiti a me, piu che puoi…" _

Then all together… _"Come stop your crying, it'll be alright, just take my hand, hold it tight. I will protect you from all around you. I will protect you, don't you cry… My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm…"_

With tears in their eyes, though none admitted, they finally slept. It was short-lived, though. They were woken not only by the bright sun, but by loud roaring they had heard not long ago. They scrambled to grab a hold of their weapons and scanned the area for that Criner creature. The growls came again, and it became clear that there was an entire heard.

There was something else, on top of the horrible sounds. Voices, speaking a strange language, were bellowing over the other sounds. It would have been wise for the group to run away, but when the thought came in, it was already too late.

A herd of Criners rolled in over the hills, and on top of them road an even more alarming being. They were nasty, fat, and their language was anything but nice. The yelled and pointed at the group, who were charging in and attacking.

Alfred grabbed the nearest one and socked it with his club, sending the creature shrieking into a mad fury. Alfred continued to hit, wishing he had his gun with him. The creature had slimy green skin and few teeth, wrinkles covered its beady yellow eyes in a crooked circle. Their noses were that of a turtles, sharp.

This particular one grabbed Alfred by the shoulders and hopped of his stead. Alfred was helpless on the ground and fighting with what he could. The foul thing had some sort of spiked club, and it was heading towards Alfred's head. Luckily, it landed just short, as the being had been shot in the head with an arrow from Japan. Alfred stood and plucked the sturdy arrow; handing it back to Japan he refigured his battle plan.

There was not much time for planning and Alfred was quickly overcome by another one, and it was bigger. The club was not a good weapon, Alfred thought, only to be disproven. The club was heavy and knocked the wind out of the revolting attacker.

Italy hid behind them, trying to make himself undetectable. Canada was following suit, not convinced of his weapon. Then, the idea struck him as plainly obvious. He crouched low to the ground and willed himself befall his spirit form. With a white blaze of light, followed by other flickering lights, a polar bear was in the place of Canada.

Charging through the battlefield, he plunged head first into the creatures, swatting at the enemies like dandelions, and sending them screaming (an ugly sound, imagine a waling baby but several octaves lower).

"Why didn't I think of that…" Alfred garbled, watching the Cripers flee.

"Because you don't think," Japan replied shrewdly, with a sour look on his face. Alfred shrunk back and felt his face grow red.

"Who are those?" Denmark asked, rubbing his head and watching Italy tend his wounds.

"The Gobbers of the South. I don't know what they are doing here, this is Elf territory," Arthur replied, appearing deep in thought and troubled. "There are more where those came from, so let's continue on… It's a long walk, you know what that means,"

Canada and America promptly formed to bears and Japan clambered onto America's back when he found he could not turn into the fox. Norway burst into a wolf, and watched silently as the two Italians get on Canada. He flinched when Denmark mounted him, but didn't bother to argue. China was a large dragon, longer than Canada's bear form, but more slender, and took Spain and Arthur on his back. Sweden, a beautifully large lion, had Finland on his back. Running (or flying in China's case) they traveled west, into the Elven Kingdom.


	11. Saphira The Witch and Her Love of Guests

_Thanks to everyone who is following and has added as a favorite! Be sure to leave a review saying what you think_

Evening fell three more times after the attack and our group has grown tired of travelling without an end goal. "Where are we supposed to be heading!?" cried out Japan, his arms aching from holding onto Alfred's neck. Everyone faced Arthur with sour looks that caused Arthur to grin regardless. "Oh but we're already here!" he pointed towards the cliff not five yards away from him.

Sighing in relief and forming back into their original, human forms, they inspected the cliff. Not very far down was a road that leads to a grand castle. The castle was a brilliant beige color. Arthur hopped down the cliff. With a thump, he landed on a grassy bush. "Don't do that! Find another way down! I'll tell them we're here!"

Denmark grunted and followed, ignoring the orders completely. He landed on his rump and howled in pain. Arthur smacked his shoulder in distaste. "Do you ever listen?!"

Denmark stuck his tongue out and rubbed his sore behind. Italy was scanning meanwhile for a less steep hill. He did find one, and very low it was, and ran over. Arthur was already in the castle by the time Japan was done chastising Denmark for his stupid actions.

In the castle, made by elves, there was a throne. On this throne was not the Elf King, but a hideous goblin. The goblin, with fat oozing out on all sides and sickly orange skin, and greasy eyes, stared Arthur down. "What have you done with the King?!" he screamed in horror, grabbing his blade.

"We took care of 'em," the goblin responded, laughing and causing his three chins to dance. Arthur was blinded by rage: the King was one of his closest friends and last remaining relative. He thrashed his sword at the guards, who were smaller goblins, and fought them off singlehandedly. He grew to thrice his size, his eyes red with anger he could not control. The goblin leader bared his teeth and ordered for Arthur's head.

This wish would not be fulfilled, as Arthur grew rather terrifying in size and shape. His teeth were longer and crushed the small creatures as soon as they came near. Stomping his foot on the ground, he crushed even more that way. An accidental back hand from him and the goblin leader was tossed off his throne. His screeches echoed through the hall and he grabbed his club to beat the snot out of Arthur. He, too, was mad with rage. Screeching and yelling and undistinguishable noises were all that filled the bloodied area. And then—

And then Japan shot Arthur in the arm. The surprise and pain zapped Arthur down to normal size, and he burst into tears. Canada charged through, catching the very small Arthur (who was in fact so shocked that he was now half his original size) on his back and running out. When they reached a safe distance from the castle, when the curses were no longer heard, Japan took his turn in being angry.

He gave a firm scolding to Arthur, "just because he said 'we took care of him' doesn't mean that he's dead! You know goblins as well as I do, they lie frequently. You let your rage take care of you and now-"

"Japan! What's gotten into you? Since when were you the mother around here?" Alfred yelled, holding his hands up in disdain.

Japan answered coldly, "since none of you have the brains to rule yourselves!" This silenced the rest, who looked at the ground in embarrassment, their ears turning bright red.

Arthur's wound was bandaged and left to rest while the others made camp. He was left to keep guard, and strictly ordered to not move, or else Japan would chain him down. In an unspoken agreement, Arthur was left out of the ring around the fire. The others were quite fed up with all of Arthur's shenanigans. In the end, it was Finland who came to comfort him. He handed Arthur a steaming bowl of soup and sat down.

"Arthur?" Finland said sweetly, his voice low and soft. When Arthur did not answer, Finland continued on. "I know what you're trying to do, and I know you mean well… But you can't rely on us figuring out your plan. At least tell us where you're going next. We joined along because we love you, we really do. As much as we don't like to admit it, we all love each other like brothers… Or like more," he tilted his head to Japan and America, who were feeding each other and giggling.

"Still, we all have our faults, I guess… Oh! This doesn't make any sense, what I'm saying, that is. Not your mission, no…" he fell silent. Arthur looked at him and began nodding slowly.

"No, I understand… And thank you for understanding. I'm sorry for losing my temper, and losing what could have been an ally," Arthur answered after a pause. Finland smiled.

"But don't go around thinking it's your job to comfort everyone, okay?" Arthur added. Finland nodded and stood up, asking him to join the others in the food.

With tired limbs they fell asleep. Sweden was set to keep watch, and he did so as a lion. He figured no one would bother coming close if there was a lion in the way. The golden mane shimmered in the moonlight, and he rested his head on his paws.

Morning drew in, bringing a fog with it. The sort of gloom set over them thickly, it was sticky and sucked the energy right of them. "You don't think the fog is enchanted, do you?" Iceland asked, looking at the graying sky.

"I hope not," France replied.

They set forth, looking to the sky and wishing for sunlight. The fog not only posed the problem of being a kill-joy, but it tired them out. China was beginning to think he was hearing things when he heard distant voices, speaking English of all things. He expected some other living beings to be around, but the human-tones surprised him. He stood still, beckoning his ears to make sense of the words. Alfred noticed and stopped as well. They all stopped and perked their eyes and ears.

There it was again! It was wispy, and started to sound less human than before. There was a fierce chill in the air and Norway rubbed his shoulders. A sound of leaves crunching came from a distance and another rush of voices. The voices varied in volume, rising and sounding menacing. At one point it got so loud and close that Japan drew his arrow towards the sound, but at that moment it stopped. It grew quiet. Then again, louder, like a children playing. It did sound like a child, at first like girl, then a grown woman. "Hello is anyone—"Denmark began to say, but was cut off by a horrible, high-pitched shriek. The group grunted and covered their ears, dropping to their knees. When the cry ceased, they took hold of their weapons and stood back to back in a circle.

The fog seemed to have grown thicker, as they could hardly see their own hands. No sounds except for distant cries and calls from what sounded like children. No grass crunching, in fact, they could hardly hear the breathing of those next to them. Worried gravely, Alfred nudged Iceland with his shoulder. Iceland gasped. It was an unwise move for Alfred, and a stupid reaction for Iceland, as a pair of pale glowing eyes focused on them. No one dared move. The orbs blinked and moved closer, revealing its body. It was a silhouette of a young boy, and just that. A black and damp creature rose closer. Japan narrowed his eyes, aiming his arrow at it. The being looked directly ahead, right at France.

France heard his heart beating in his ears and watched with quivering fear. He raised his sword, so it pointed between the eyes. It raised a black and smoking hand to the blade. France jerked it away for fear that it would melt. The creature looked hurt, as he lowered his hand and his eyes seemed saddened. It stepped closer, and a buzzing sound filled their ears. Alfred's ringing came back. His arms were shaking and he gasped for air. The noise was not a simple single-tone buzz that he had experienced earlier. Instead, it sounded like a broken radio, the wailing of a broken station. _WAAAA-woahwoahWAAA_, and it scared Alfred to bits. He raised a hand to his left ear and pressed it down. Japan was growing angry now, and Finland was on his last nerve. The creature was evoking pulsing emotions into them.

France felt an odd sense of abandonment, and tried hard to concentrate on keeping his guard. Finland was intoxicated with thick memories that suffocated him. He burst into tears and released the arrow, a perfect shot into the creature's eye. It burst into wispy tongues of black smoke. After what seemed like a decade, the fog had cleared up. They all breathed a sigh of relief and lowered their arms.

"What was that?" Norway breathed, gritting his teeth. As always, he and several others turned to Arthur for the answer. Arthur took a moment to notice the eyes.

"Don't look at me! I don't know the name of every blasted creature on this planet!" he exasperated. The subject was dropped and they moved on. With the fog, their dark moods vanished.

Summer was soon to draw to an end. These travelers cold feel the frost, and had come closer to their final destination. This final destination was an area on the tip of a mountain. They could see the green, yellowing mountain stand tall and proud in the horizon. It was a possible three day's travel, which is not much time, but provisions were running low. It was quite lucky that Saphira found them when she did.

Saphira is an old witch living in the woods in a solitary home that consisted of trees that were bewitched to form a tent. Her face is lined with wrinkles and a gentle smile rested on her pink lips. Her hair, which still had streaks of black, was a fizzy white that looked much like a storm cloud. Hunched over in her grandmother-dress and shawl, she would have easily been mistaken for a regular old lady. She was not, though.

She had been out picking flowers and chatting with rabbits when one told her about a mysterious league of humans walking through the forests. They were tired and thin. And, just like any other elderly woman, Saphira rejoiced at the idea of feeding people. The more the merrier!

She caught up to them after they had a particularly nasty battle with a pack of Cripers. The Cripers backed off as soon as they saw the forest. They were deathly afraid of it and howled with their tail between their legs. Alfred had suffered a cut on his shoulder, Japan a black eye, and other ailments were floating around. Italy was the only one with a still distinguishable body, and he was what gave their location to Saphira. He began playing his flute, which had proven useless in waking up the cold as stone Spain and France. "Tut-tut," Saphira said from a distance. "Come along, now… Carry your friends if you can. If you can't do call! Oh, too much work. Get on this and Jenny should lead you!" Jenny was a large beaver. Saphira had enchanted a large tree to scoop up the wounded and place them in her home. Those who could still walk accompanied Jenny.

Japan, cupped his eye with his hand, shot an odd look to the tall beaver. "Excuse me… But who are you?" Jenny turned and grinned the way a beaver could.

"I'm Jenny," she replied frankly. Japan shook his head, a small smile forming. Jenny winked, "ohh, you mean who we are. I'm Jenny, the beaver of Beaverdale, not a bad town. Come visit, we have good bread!" her voice was tinted with an English accent that croaked. It was still gentle, though, and that of a young woman. Her glossy brown fur gleamed as she waddled. "And that, sir, is Saphira. The best witch in all of Melbaneium!"

"Where's Melbaneium?" Norway asked, feeling somewhat stupid.

"Where are you right now? This planet is Melbaneium… And it's curious to see your kind around here. We don't get many human folk in these parts. The closest thing to human is Saphira, or the few witches that come to tea on Thursdays." Jenny opened the door, which was a small, circular shaped door that was encased by tree trunks. It was just the right size for a small witch like Saphira. The door led to a passageway that opened to a warm, circular room. Several doors were planted around, one was open and a kitchen was seen.

The middle had a, yes, circular table made of fine brown wood that seemed to be rooted to the earth. On closer inspection, Japan noted that it was in fact rooted to the earth. The thick roots dug into the ground and came up as a smooth table top with trees around it. "You're all so wounded… Those dreadful Cripers…" said a voice from the side. It was a male voice and young too. The source was a brown rabbit with trustworthy eyes. "I'm Peter by the way,"

"Nice to meet you, Peter," China said politely, shaking Peter's paw and sitting down. Saphira brought in steaming plates of delicious looking food. Everything from potatoes to greens they had never seen before was stuffed onto the table. Saphira was enjoying herself greatly. She promptly refused any words of thanks and urged them to eat.

"This is very nice of you, Saphira-san," Japan said, bowing his head. Saphira chuckled.

"You all stay here for the night, I'm sure your journey will be well rewarded, but how will you get there with your sore limbs." She replied when they all were full.

She stood outside of the door and waved a hand to let them all in. When Japan was the last to remain, purposely kept by Peter who insisted to clean his wounds again, Saphira called him over. She looked into his eyes (at least the one that was not swollen), and sighed. "Japan… Don't trouble yourself so much. You can only do so much, don't give into temptations."

Japan was confused. Saphira gave him a "one day you'll understand" look and waved him inside.

When she was sure they were all sleeping, she turned to Peter. "I do believe it is time."


	12. The End is Much Closer Than We Think

Morning dew lay sleepily on the leaves. The pitter patter of rain from the previous night was very soothing to our group's ears. Refreshed, they headed to eat breakfast. Saphira had set out some bread, butter, jam, and even some miso soup for Japan. The old lady herself sat smiling on a chair. Her wrinkled face was radiating with affection.

Arthur was outside, sharpening his knife. His hair looked much like a bird's nest, what with all the twigs that had lodged themselves in. Jenny couldn't bear to look at it anymore and begged Arthur to clean it. After a thorough scrubbing, filled with Arthur's howls of distress, his hair was finally clean. It lay, curly, down his back. The red reflected the little sunlight that came through the thick canopy of trees overhead.

His knife, blackened and sharp, glinted furiously with ever scrape Arthur applied. Eventually, the glint was just a bright light. This is when Arthur stopped. The blade was shaking and flew out of his hands, glowing red. It lodged itself in a tree and steam rose. Still vibrating in a violent manner, it pulled itself out and zipped through the trees. It appeared to have taken more caution, weaving around trees and heading deeper and deeper into the forest.

"Get b—"Arthur began to yell, but was cut off by Japan's brilliant flash of yellow. A fox, with nine tails, dashed after the runaway blade. With skill only a creature as nimble as the fox could bestow, he flew through with ease.

Puffing, Japan changed back and picked up the blade. It had dropped quite suddenly when it reached this particular area. The area itself was no different from the rest of the forest, though perhaps a bit more open. Japan grew curious. He checked to see if he had his bow, and armed himself with the blade as well. Creeping around the area, which was steadily growing darker, he still found nothing odd. He assumed that whatever scared the blade was gone now and the blade was simply too lazy to fly back to Arthur. He gave one last peek at the trees, spotting a bush shiver, dismissed it as the wind and—

"AAAAAAHHHH!"

Alfred felt his heart flip. "Oh god what happened?!" he shrieked and powered after. His big bear form was followed by the white bear, Canada.

"Don't run into trouble!" he called weakly.

Arthur was ready to charge forward, but Saphira's frail old arm held him back. "The rest of you head inside and I'll make some tea."

"AMERICA!" Japan's voice came again, tired and shrill. America charged through and drew up behind Japan. In front of Japan was a rat. It squeaked and scratched its wee nose. Japan clambered onto America, tears threatening his eyes. He drew a quaking arrow. America gave Japan a look that was enough to set the water works flowing. "I'm sorry… I have a horrible fear of rats… Kill it!" he whimpered and buried his face in America's gruff fur. With a rather condescending snort, America carried Japan back.

"Good heavens and Earth! What frightened Mr. Honda so horrifically?!" Peter inquired, looking over the pale Japan. Saphira handed him a cup of tea. The tea threatened to leap out of the cup as Japan held onto it. His face was stained with tears, which lined the dirt that had caked on after many moons of travel.

Saphira looked him over, with squinted eyes."Dearest me, all of you need a bath," Japan nodded, feeling comforted by the notion of a nice, warm bath. She entered the house and called for the rest, who looked up from their tea and stared Japan down. Some had worried expressions, others looked frightened themselves. "Come along, everyone!" Saphira chimed and lead them down a winding pathway. It grew dimmer with each step; eventually it got a blackish dark that scared America. America was back in his human form, and holding Japan tightly.

The dark passageway began to brighten, with a flickering blue light. It looked to be the reflection of water. The sounds, apart from their own breaths, were soothing beyond measure. It sounded much like a stream. The sight itself drew a sigh from each and every one of our group members. Saphira, with that everlasting smile, nodded and held out a hand.

The room was much less a room than a cave. It had stalagmites decorating the walls, which were dark-blue stones. In the center of the room was a large pool of water. The water appeared to be the light source. Crystals grew at the very bottom, glowing sapphire. To their bare feet, the ground was warm.

Now naked, and immersed in the warm water, several animals showed their faces. Jenny trotted over to Japan and applied something with the consistency of tree-sap, and rubbed his hair gently. "Thank you," he whispered and she shook her head, smiling toothily. America sat by Japan, refusing to leave his side. With this new weakness clear to him, he felt a greater urge to protect him.

Other animals, including Peter and several others who ranged from deer to otters, held up some bowls which held the same substance that Jenny was using to scrub down Japan. Gratefully taking it, they all washed their hair and bodies. The dirt came off and filtered its way into small crevices that lined the basin.

Arthur felt a growing self-awareness, as his long red hair floated around him. Saphira sat on a large rock and watched them. France swam over to look at her for a long moment.

"Excuse me?" he asked.

"Yes, deary?" she replied, voice sweet as honey.

"May I ask some questions of you?"

"Go right ahead,"

"Do you know of a girl who lives in a cabin in our world, who has a love of riddles and playing mean tricks and capturing young boys?"

Saphira didn't answer for a while, and France lost hope. He assumed she didn't know and started to swim away. "Ah, yes I do know her," she spoke up just then. France turned back and realized that answers would be hard to get.

"Who is she?"

"A she's not a Criner if that's what you're thinking. She's a Spirit. She belongs here, in Melbaneium, but she prefers the other worlds,"

"There are other worlds?"

"One question at a time, _mon garçon_**, **you want to know about her or not?" but Saphira did not wait for an answer. "You see, she gets lonely, for she is the last of her kind. Her friends died off many ages ago. She may appear to be nasty, at times, but she saw you and thought 'o, look! New friends!' she's a child at heart. She grabbed your friend, because he was the closest in her grasp. No particular reason,"

"Then why did she disappear?!" Norway growled, now joining the conversation.

"She returned here, she should be around somewhere, she found that she could not take you along, your feelings were far too strong, and so she left,"

"Alright, merci… But now, what was that shadowy creature that scared us all half to death?" France continued.

Saphira's smile fell and her voice was grave. "That is something you do not want to come in contact with. It will feed on you, run away. You may not see much in the fog, but it is very slow. Do not linger much longer,"

They all felt upset, they did not like the look on Saphira's aged and kind face. "What other worlds are there?" Arthur asked, and eyes stared daggers at him. All but Finland felt horrible betrayal. Arthur dragged them in, so he ought to know all of this! Finland stayed behind Sweden, continuing his bath.

Saphira winked at them and stood, "come back up when you are done, your clothing will be waiting for you, those are some towels you can use," she pointed to a stack of woven cloths.

Norway watched her leave in silence, biting his lip. He had grown a terrible fear of being left alone. He stood up and dried himself off with a towel, wrapping it around himself, he left. The others followed until the only one left was Arthur. Arthur did not mind being left alone.

He scrubbed his hair and Peter hopped over. "Hello Arthur," he said. Arthur looked at him and his lip quivered.

"Hello,"

"Why did you bring them here? Did they not read the messages I put up? You did find your dagger, right? Isn't that enough?"

"I'm sorry Peter, but this time I'm not out for personal gain," Arthur climbed out of the water.

Peter's nose twitched. "Then what are you out for? The gold is still up there, no one has touched it except for those who placed it there,"

Arthur grabbed the remaining towel. "There is something following us,"

"Criners aren't following you," Peter hopped closer. "They attack anyone who enters their territory! I told you last time we—"

"No, Peter," Arthur interrupted, "I understand that, those who are following us are not a league of nasty villains, and it is a dark force… A shadowed force. Don't you see more of those fog-creatures? They are looking for me,"

"Then why drag your friends along? Their nerves are on end as it is! They joked about killing you in your sleep! They want to go home, some regret coming, but in the end they said it was worth it, to see all these beautiful sights and all… Why?"

Arthur wanted to give a big, heroic speech. But his actual reason was far from heroic. "I get lonely, I'm frightened. I don't like travelling alone…"

"Oh, I get it," Peter hissed, anger boiling. "You want to make sure you come out alive. You don't care if they die!"

"That's not true!"

"Don't lie to me, Arthur! I know your plan, Robin knew your plan! You're a selfish, desperate fool who would do anything for gold and a long life. You have lived this long because of your lies! The lies that brought Robin, Jewel, Samuel, and Rudy to sacrifice their lives for you!"

"That's. Not. Tr—"

"Quit lying to me!" yelled Peter, "I'm glad I didn't throw myself into that boiling pit for you! I never trusted you in the first place, Son of Alice!"

Arthur burst into tears, "No! I lied because I wanted them to live! I lied because…" Peter looked at him coldly. "I've made mistakes in the past, I admit it… But this time no one will die!"

"Someone will, I promise you. This trip to the mountain is cursed, who exactly is following you? Death is! If I had the right mind I would have told your friends to leave in the middle of the night!"

"I doubt they would trust a talking rabbit," he said satirically, though his voice wavered.

"But I am not a rabbit, am I? Oh you, you Son of Alice,"

"Quit calling me that, you're a son of Alice as well,"

"I refuse to be your brother, you lying spider," he reared up on his hind legs, teeth showing.

Arthur backed away, still dripping wet, "No… You aren't…"

"If one man dies," Peter walked closer, growling. "The rest would not die, it is the plan. That is the curse of Melbaneium! One partner of the group must be sacrificed."

"Y-you wouldn't," Arthur back up, walking into a wall. He frantically searched for his blade.

"Your blade is not here," Peter chimed playfully. "It is still upstairs,"

"Why me?! Why don't you kill Alfred or Kiku or—" Arthur covered his mouth. How could he say such things?! He loved his friends; he loved his sister, Robin… How could he… And it dawned on him, for he really was that cruel and wicked creature that Peter was calling him. He treasured his gold and his life above all else. Why did he bring the others with him when he knew that one would die? Arthur came to the conclusion that those reasons he was denying were all too true. He really just wanted the gold and to get out alive. His plan was to grab as much treasure as he could carry, and when the enemies came to attack, he would fight for the first few minutes, but when the first one dropped dead, he would run away. Just as he did in all other battles. He was the pure essence of human cruelty, which is what he was. He was the scum of earth built into a living figure.

He kneeled down, exposing his neck. "Do it, and tell them to go home. Tell them all about me, and our previous journey. Tell him how Jenny came to be, and that it wasn't simply that all animals in this world could talk. That's why the deer wasn't sparking conversation with Denmark…"

"Very well, then, Arthur… You've changed you know. But what you are ready to do does not need to happen. If the enemy finds your body, he will know his job is done, thank you Robin, thank you Samuel, thank you all who gave your spirits in a valiant attempt to save us."

Arthur held his breath, ready for the final blow that would kill him. It did not come. He heard a coughing sound and a thump of an arrow. He stood up. In front of him was Peter's carcass, pierced with an arrow. He turned and found Finland, holding his bow and a stern stare glazing over his eyes.

"What were you doing?! Arthur, you know if you die that Melbaneium will fall too. I know this mission isn't about gold, but about saving this world."

Arthur, glad to live for a little while longer, thanked Finland and ran up the stairs. His glee died as soon as he made it to the top step.


	13. Wick

_Thank you all for such kind reviews! Now, I try to refrain from author's notes, but I do have something to say. Feel free to skip the bolded part! _

**Hullo all who are reading and thank you for taking your time to read this note! Thank you especially to that one guest who posted such a kind review that made my heart titter in joy! This will be but a moment… Now I do feel there are some inconstancies in this story, which I will try and clean up as soon as possible, and I do hope you don't mind how much I changed dear old Arthur. I do enjoy reviews. I hope this story has been a magical journey—and it's not over yet!—in which you find yourself immersed! Thank you again, now onto the story… Oh! Do you recall those boards? I have the translations at the bottom of this chapter. As well as the other translations from Drogonish. **

Arthur panicked. No one was there, all he found was a very vast and open plain. He didn't see the living room to Saphira's house. He called to Finland, who appeared to have vanished into thin air. He wondered if this is what terror Norway had felt and he began to feel lonely. He regretted ever thinking that being alone would be best.

He continued on into the forest, calling out "Alfred! Madam Saphira! Jenny! Tino! Where are you all?!"His despairing cries echoed, and remained unheard. He walked onward, into the forest. It was a bright and sunny day, the exact opposite of what he felt inside. Storm clouds raged in his belly and fog dimmed his mind. His heart beat at an alarming speed and he recalled days that had long passed.

The memories were far too strong to dismiss. He continued calling, allowing a flashback sequence to begin in his mind. As the trees grew thicker, he could hear Robin's voice. Her beautiful voice, just like music…

_"Arthur! Go! You must—umph—protect this world! Go up to Man's Land! G-go!" she had called, before turning to flames that engulfed Arthur in a choking manner. It was a tickling sensation that spread across his body and mind… _

Shaking his head, as to dislodge Robin's voice, he touched a tree. It was sturdy and warm. With his feet sore and aching from the long trek, he leaned against it. He sighed and began to sob. He did not enjoy being alone, he needed his friends dearly. They meant everything to him, he would die for them.

"Harrumph! Why the crying, my dear fellow?" a low, earthy voice boomed in Arthur's ears. The tree shifted and Arthur fell back, landing on his bottom with a dull thud. The grass cushioned him. He looked up and was met with a very old face of a tree. The face was made up of wrinkles from the bark. The tree picked up Arthur but the armpits and studied him with dark eyes. Arthur stared back into the eyes, though they were blurry from his tears.

The deep, dark, and aged eyes were a glossy color. A glint of yellows and purples flashed through them. "Who are you?" Arthur asked, sniffling.

"I am Zherda, and who might you be? Oh… I do believe I asked you a question first. Do answer that first," his voice was much like a cello.

Arthur dangled his feet and didn't answer for a long moment. The dark eyes of Zherda peered into him and pried the truth. "I lost my friends, and I am Arthur, Son of Alice, Brother to Robin the Great and Peter the Quick…" he said slowly, a pang hitting his heart as he said each of the names.

"Son of… Alice? The Alice? And brother to Peter and Robin… Oh but they've been dead for a while… What is your real name, Arthur? Arthur is a recent name, only newly birthed in the tongue of man. And if you are so old then you must have a different name…"

Arthur nodded, "yes, I do. Elric, Son of Alice. I do not like to use such a name, it has grown stale on my tongue and I have changed since the first time I came to these woods,"

Zherda laughed, a sound that shook the surrounding trees and caused several birds to chirp. "Aye! I remember you, the little tyke who would run around and tug on Gleerd's branches!"

Arthur nodded, blushing. "Yes, that's I. Robin would scold me when I did that. _'Aklar vannddirr!' _she would say."

Zherda set Arthur down and seated himself on a tree trunk that appeared to have fallen. "Watch it, Zherda! You're not as light as you used to be," it moaned and Zherda rolled it away, and sat on the floor instead. He heaved a great sigh and Arthur felt his hair fly backwards. "It's kind of you to drop by, Elric. Where did your friends leave you? Do tell me the whole tale, I'm interested in hearing it. Oh, and do tell it in Drogonish!"

Arthur gathered his thoughts and cleared his throat. _"Aklar im lloo tallen…" _and he told the story from beginning to end. Zherda was patient to listen. He asked several questions and to repeat certain parts. What intrigued him most of all was the strange boy he had met in Italy.

"Tempus was his name? How strange, his name means 'time', does it not?" Zherda investigated, "but why would he follow you? I do not know of any living Changers, I assume that's what he was, here in Melbaneium. Curious indeed, continue on,"

When Arthur was finished, and somewhat parched, he regarded Zherda intently. Zherda did not move he appeared frozen in time, his eyes closed and silent as a rock. Arthur wondered if he had fallen asleep, perhaps his tale was dull?

"Alas, I haven't any idea where your friends are, my dear lad," Zherda said, opening his eyes and finding that Arthur was dozing off.

"Huh-what?" Arthur snapped awake, rubbing his red eyes. Zherda made a sound in his throat that did not sound like a laugh or a 'tut', but a mix of the two. He picked up Arthur again and set him on his shoulder. The nimble body lay in comfort in the crook that connected Zherda's large head to his thick shoulder.

He was lead into a clearing that was shadowed over by branches of trees that reached out far from their trunks. Zherda set Arthur down on a sheltered rock, bid him farewell, promised him a safe night's sleep, and told him he would go call Nala.

Arthur was far too tired to even question. He fell as sleep as soon as his eyes were shut.

"Are you awake, sugar leaf?" a warm, woman's voice interrupted Arthur's slumber. He yawned and stretched, smiling at the woman. She had beautiful red hair that shone in the sunlight. She had green eyes and behind her stood a white bear.

"Glad we found you, Arthur, you're fingers are cold," the bear said, it was Canada.

"You dropped this when Canada earned his spirit form," Nala said and handed Arthur the leather-bound notebook. Arthur thanked her and flipped through the pages, all seemed in order. He landed upon a half-burned page, though. On it, drawn, was what appeared to be a silhouette of a young boy, Above it, the word _Wick _was written in the finest, black print.

Underneath it, were notes in Swedish. "_'Wick' är en märklig varelse som matas av lycka. Den introducerar smärtsamma minnen till alla som stöter på." _Beneath those words there was English, "Beware of the Wick, do not linger long! The only defense you hav" the rest of the page was burned. Arthur cursed and showed it to Nala.

"Have you any idea how to destroy a Wick?"

Nala stared at the picture and frowned darkly. "It is new creature, he is not in our old songs. I do hear the spirits of animals murmur in quiet voices. They feel the horrid wrath of these creatures as well. It does not hurt them as severely as humans. Humans are… strange. They feel more than me or any other witch, wizard, or spirit."

Arthur watched her with little hope. "Where are the others?"

Canada smiled, now human again. "They are safe, do not worry. At least for now," Canada paused. He looked at Nala for help. She shook her head and urged him on. "Well, we better get going, they aren't far off. Someone bewitched Norway, I think it was that spirit we met in the Arctic, and thus Norway vanished himself and those around him. The only one who can reverse that spell is…"

"Who?"

"Peter."

**Translations:**

**Conversation between Italy and Romano: Italy: Brother? What do you see? Roma: Huh? Oh, nothing. Italy: Is it them?**

**Conversation between Norway and Iceland: N: What if they find us? I: Nothing! **

**Between France and Canada: F: Canada! Finally a sensible soul, tell me what's going on. C: You don't know? F: No I don't! Tell me this instant what the hell's happening. .. And then? C: Oh so basically we're looking for some sort of puzzle here. F: Shit. **

**The boards: It's really funny, that only when things turn bad, do they realize, that they need each other, it's really funny. **

**The conversation between France and the spirit: F: What are you doing here, darling? S: I live here. F: No, I mean, why are you in the Arctic? Where is your family? S: My responses are limited. You must ask the right questions. Italy: Oh! So these are the riddles. **

**The Drogonish. "That's rude" "That's a long tale."**

**The Swedish in this chapter: The "Wick" is a strange creature that feeds off of happiness. It introduces painful memories to all those who encounter. **

**Pronounciation: **

**Nala: NAH-la**

**Zherda: Jer-DA**

**Melbaneium: Mel-BANE-I-Uhm**

**Drogonvolk : Dro-GONE-folk**


	14. Could It Get Any Worse

Arthur opened his mouth to tell Canada that Peter was dead. He stopped. The all knowing look in Canada and Nala's eyes told him that they were aware of it all.

"So where are they?" he asked, contorting his great brows. Canada and Nala traded a wary look.

"They went home," Nala chimed. Arthur's mouth gaped and his doubled in size, as he did when frightened. Arthur—now at least 10 feet tall—was perched unevenly on the rock and started to cry. Large tears, the size of rocks poured down. "Don't cry!" Nala and Canada cried out at once, running and trying to avoid the tears. Canada was not quite as lucky as Nala, and was splashed over with the salty tears. His clothing was soaked and his glasses slipped off.

"I-I can't stop!" Arthur whimpered and wailed further until the grass below his feet was adequately soaked. Soon it was a small, salty puddle. Canada turned to his bear form and shook himself dry. By the time he had turned back Arthur had calmed down. "I-I'm sorry… But it's too much! How will I bring them back?! Now they're on Earth and long gone! Long gone I say! They will not want to come back and by now they will have forgotten about this world! Just in time for the end of Melbaneium! Oh how horrid! Have you seen how many Wicks are crawling about?"

Canada cleared his throat. "I think an abundance of a species is hardly the end of the world,"

"Oh but you are mistaken!" Arthur called out, now his regular size again. "You see how many tears I have shed? It is at the fault of those dreadful Wicks!"

Nala grumbled something about how he had turned to a little girl. Arthur didn't appear to hear, and if he had heard he didn't call her out on it.

"Then our only option is to go back and get them!" Canada yelled, forgetting the Arthur was now normal size and could hear him quite well if he hadn't yelled. Arthur shook his head tartly.

"I told you! Or did you not listen?" Arthur scolded. "I told you they have no memory of this place! And if I were to go back I would not either! I cannot let this world crumble at my own sake!"

"Then why don't you bring something from here? Or write down that you need to come back?" Nala suggested, waving her hand. Arthur gave her another tart look and nodded. He stood up and vanished into the forest. Nala crossed her arms and waited patiently.

The wait was not long and Arthur scurried back with an arrow and a quill. "I'm dearly afraid that I would forget I had a paper in my pocket and throw it in the wash! Then of course it would be no use to me," he pulled up his sleeve and handed the quill to Canada, along with a small bottle of ink. He held out his arm and gestured for Canada to write some sort of note.

"How do you know this will not wash off?" Canada studied the quill after he dipped it in the black ink. He began to write, tickling Arthur into a fit of giggles. _"Melbaneium is in great peril…" _

"Aye, it's a special sort of ink. Enchanted in a spell it will not wash off until the written deed it done." Arthur smiled, obviously happy with his wits. "Do be sure to mention that there are multiple entrances and state them all. If you run out of room use the other arm."

"Other entrances?" inquired Canada and he did not look up from his writing.

"Indeed. One in my garden, one in the attic, one in France's basement, and one in the cave in which we came through. The others have either been destroyed or blocked off. Though I'm confident the one in Japan's cherry tree garden has been encased in weeds."

Nala watched and excused herself to go open the gate way to come home. Arthur tucked the arrow in his small bag that he had folded inside his pocket. It was large and a shrinking charm had been used. He placed the arrow inside along with a very thin wand-like piece of wood and his notebook.

"There," Canada screwed the cap back onto the bottle and dried off any remaining ink. The two went into a pocket in Arthur's bag. They stood and headed to the small opening Nala had made in a tree. She bid them good-bye and kissed Canada's cheek in a very lady-like manner that colored Canada red.

They stumbled out and landed in a chimney. Canada fell on top of Arthur (whose hair had returned to the same blonde, short, shaggy style it had once been) and coughing hoarsely, clouds of soot puffing out of his throat like a chimney. His body was black and he wished to have a kind bath.

Arthur growled and stood, pushing Canada off his back. "Blood hell! What happened? Why am I in a fireplace? Why are you here?!" he cried and rubbed his head, not noticing the words on his arms as they were dirtied.

Canada couldn't quite remember how he got here, but his cheek was tingling still as if a kiss had been laid upon it. He rubbed it, trying to recall who would kiss him. England crawled from under him and dusted himself off. "Where are we…?" he muttered, surveying the room. It was a clean and orderly type of room with expensive looking furniture and several pictures of strange people Arthur had never seen were placed on the walls.

He knew for sure he was not in his home land. Canada was just as certain it wasn't his either. "Hello? Anyone there?"Canada called softly, losing the confidence he had had in Melbaneium. Though he didn't remember having that confidence, he felt strange whispered.

Time ticked by and no one greeted them. England looked at his bag, curiously, and dusted it off as well before leaving the house. He left the house, followed closely by Canada who stared at the bag in wonderment, thinking of why it intrigued him so.

The house was in a regularly shaped neighborhood. The signs were in English and England figured that they were in America, as it was warm and July (so it most certainly was not Australia or New Zealand). He caught up with a woman who was jogging by. He ran along, though his feet hurt, he also noticed he was missing his shoes, and called out to her. She didn't seem to hear him. "MISS!" he called louder. She stopped and swerved around and pulled her earplugs out.

"Sorry about that," she took a deep breath and asked what was the matter.

"This may sound crazy, but what day is it today?"England felt his face flush.

"July 4th, of course," she smiled. "Are you on break from work or something?"

"Yes, holiday, visiting America and all. Time change and all, lost track of time!" he laughed politely and the woman laughed along. "Oh and do tell the people living at house 7o9 that there is a nasty pile of soot by their fireplace," with that he hurried and left the woman with a deadpan expression. That was her house. He heard her scream and wondered if she would call the police.

Arthur fumbled through his bag and he pricked himself with the arrow. His effort was fruitless for could not find his cell-phone. What a terrible predicament! He was stranded in god knows where, America, he couldn't find his phone, and he had no recollection of the past few days. He recalled having hiked in the mountains and that was about it. The last event he could clearly picture in his mind was talking to America, France, and Japan about going on some sort of adventure. Yet, even that was a foggy memory.

He looked around for a telephone booth and found none. Walking his weary and bare feet to the nearest town, he finally found a café. It was a lovely place, on the corner of a busy street that looked vaguely like California, and it was crowded with people. Some were on their laptops, others talked on their phones, and some were just spending time with their friends. Cars zipped by and he carefully crossed the street. He entered the café, which was horribly stuffy and packed with people. He found that it would be far too much time to search the area and left. He walked down the sloping streets. Eyes stared at him in every direction, and England looked down upon himself. He was dirty and covered with dust, his clothing was ripped, his finger bleeding from the arrow, his hair matted, and he had a single, worn bag draped over his shoulder.

He continued to walk, ignoring the eyes that glued themselves to his every move. This town seemed rather high-end and everyone wore expensive clothing and was shiny clean. He stood out like a rose in a field of weeds. Though, he was more like an ugly weed in a field of beautiful flowers. '_Dearest me,_' he thought, '_whatever shall I do? I don't remember anyone's number…_' It was a stroke of brilliant luck that he spotted the big, yellow phone book being thrown out. He picked it up and flipped through the pages, finding an Alfred F. Jones. He looked through his bag, remembering seeing a quill inside, and grabbed it. He found a spare napkin and jotted down the number.

The white feather drew possibly more attention than his appearance. Several young men and women peered at it, as if they had never seen something like it. They had heard about it in books and movies, but this was the first time they had seen a real one being used. England didn't think much about, just that the writing looked so much nicer with it. The last time he used one of these…

He stuffed the paper and quill in his bag and began looking for something to call out of. He found a kind looking man put away his phone into his pocket. With the kindest smile he could manage, England walked up the man, he was a tad taller but not by too much. "Sir, my dear good fellow," he said, adding in more lust into his British accent, "could I make use of your phone to call a pal to pick me up? You see, my car broke down and my own cell phone shattered and I fell into a pit of mud and soot, I need to call a friend to help me," England felt at ease with his lie.

The man nodded, "oh sure!" he handed the phone. It was an older and bulky flip-phone. He dialed in America's number and thanked the man.

"Jones's residence, Alfred speaking, how may I help you?" America's cheery voice came from the other end. It boiled England's nerves end he took a deep breath.

"Hello, It's En—Arthur."

"Oh, hey Iggs! What's up? Why ya callin' from that number?"

"I don't have much time to explain, can you come get me?" he asked and told America the address.

"Sure thing," the phone clicked off and England handed it back to the man. "thank you so much, sir,"

He pulled out the napkin from his bag and stopped moving. The number had disappeared, the ink didn't run or anything. No, it was completely gone and the napkin was the same pearl-white as when he grabbed it. No smudges, no sign that he even touched it. "Curious…" he said to himself and sat on a bench. He waited for roughly ten minutes before spotting Alfred's car pull up. He climbed in, into the front seat, as Japan was out cold in the back. "Good Heavens, what happened to him?"

America laughed. "You're lucky that I was in town by the time you called. I was taking Japan on a road trip to my favorite lake. He said it would help the buzzing in my ears and all,"

England nodded. "Where am I?"

"Nevada, just a nice town in the corner of the state, not a Las Vegas or anything…" yawned and flexed his fingers on the wheel. "What brings you here? Why are you so dirty?"

England rubbed his cheek with his palm and found dirt smeared on. "I really can't remember, as strange as that sounds."

America didn't question him and drove for a minute with speaking. This was new of him, and England assumed it was from the ringing in his ears. "So where to?" Ameroca broke the silence as they reached a high-way.

"A motel would be nice, I want to wash up before I go to the airport and return home." England answered.

"Do you have money on you?" England froze. He searched his bag and found he was dry of any cash.

"No,"

America sighed, "fine, I'll pay for your motel and a taxi ride to the airport,"

"You don't have to!" England argued, he hated being cared for in such a manor. America replied with a hearty laugh.

"It's nothing! You'll pay me back, won't you?" he smiled and England found himself returning the smile. He felt at ease and grateful.

* * *

Now, now, fear not. For I have not forgotten about dear Canada. After England had escaped the house, Canada followed after. He felt a strange and powerful sensation in his spine. Dizzy, he stumbled over to the garden. Before his eyes he changed, and quite painfully, into a great white polar bear. His fingers seared with a pulsing pain as large claws poked out. His head was pained, his whole body hurt. He began to feel hot, like he had been wrapped in one too many blankets. That was his fur. The white fur began by turned his hair white and spreading over his body. He grew in size and his clothing ripped off. His shoulder blades were growing and cutting into his jacket, which pressed against his joints with a tight grip. It snapped off with a sling-shot sound. He growled in the pain and shifted. Canada looked down at the shards of cloth and at his broken glasses. In a woeful manner he made a gargling sound in his throat. He would now need to but new glasses, something that managed to elude his agenda for years.

He focused and huffed, and puffed, trying to change back into a human. His efforts were useless and he found himself hidden behind a tree. There was a scream and he turned his great head to see the woman England had been conversing with point at him and shriek. Fumbling backwards, Canada ran. The pavement wounded his claws and he was sure one was chipped.

With great effort and speed, he found himself in a more rural part of town. Panting, he hid himself behind a tree. He took great care of his surrounding and focused on his human form. His mind hurt with all the thinking. Eventually he howled in pain, sending birds fluttering in fear out of the trees.

A curious fox edged closer and peered at Canada slyly. Canada watched back. It edged closer to him, its delicate red fur swooshing in the light breeze. It was far too close now. He opened his mouth and showed off large teeth. The fox recoiled and hissed before turned and running back into the forest. Canada moved through the forest, in hopes of returning human.

Canada began making plans as to how he would live his life now, as a bear. He considered joining the circus. No, no. Maybe he would join the best zoo! Oh but these ideas were ridiculous. He knew that if he barged into town, trying to speak human tongue, he would be tranquilized and sent to the Arctic! Or, perhaps he could speak. Then he would for sure be sent to a circus or worse yet, sent to a facility and tested on. Maybe even killed! No, humans aren't like that. He would be put on a TV show for sure. He was certain he had already made the news. That woman's screams would have woken some fellow neighbors who looked out and caught a video of him. He shivered at the idea.

**BREAKING NEWS: POLAR BEAR FOUND IN BACKYARD WEARING A JACKET **

_We are not sure how this grand beast made its way into this kind neighborhood. Polar bears, as we know, are not common to find in urban Nevada. No one knows where it came from, or if any damage had done. The only leading keys of evidence are the shards of clothing and broken glass from where it was first spotted. Ms. Jenna Dinkle has been interviewed. "I was out on a morning jog, as I do every weekday, and I spotted it!" she said to the press, "then bam! This weird guy is talking to me. He's covered in dirt and then tells me my living room is a mess, which I found was true. Soot everywhere! I haven't used my fireplace in ages. Anyway, he runs away and I see the bear. It had a jacket on its back". Ms. Dinkle has been very kind to share pictures of her living room with us. This elusive bear and man are on our radars. The bear is large, white, and a species of Polar Bear. The man is a dirty, blonde, about five or so feet tall, with large eyebrows and a little bit of freckles. He has tattoos up his arms. If spotted please dial the number or email us at… _

This is very much what the news had said the next day. While England fell asleep on the old bed (he refused to get a better motel, despite Japan and America's offers), Canada made home in a comfortable patch of grass.

The next morning, England took a hot shower and scrubbed his hair down. The soot slipped down the drain and he felt relieved. When he brought his arm to wash, he noticed the writing. It did not scrub away.

He decided to read it, and the memories flowed back. _"Melbaneium is in great peril, Author! There is no time. Hurry, now, get us all together and take us back from one of the listed entrances…" _

England gasped, staring at his arm. So that's why that blasted arrow was in my bag! He scrubbed himself dry and got dressed. He went to grab his bag, only to find it was not there and the window wide open.


	15. The Inky Arrow

England panicked, not knowing what else to do. He thought he had dropped the bag, but the shards of glass surrounding the floor under the window told him it was a break-in. He instantly regretted choosing such a shabby motel. He climbed out of the window (cutting himself yet again).

Sprinting as fast as his old legs could carry him, he followed a young man. The same man who leant him that phone! "Hey!" he screamed, "get back here with my bag!"

The man turned to glance at England, and started to run faster, swerving into an alley. Skidding to a curving halt, England followed. His finger tips just barely grazed the flailing brown bag. Growing angry, he dub in his pockets for something, anything. His fingers touched something hard and he pulled it out. A rock, hard and block lay in his palm, bouncing with his steps. England shook it gently and threw it at the man's head.

The fellow dropped the back, with a soft sound of cracking, and England managed to grab it before the man could. Aiming a stomping kick to his head, the man yelped and took cover. "Please, please don't…"

"Then why did you snatch my bag? That was awfully impolite," England chastised. His black and prominent brows were furrowed. He stared his green, wise eyes down. The man returned the stare with frightened brown eyes.

"I'm sorry… I… I can't help it… Something drove me to it," he mumbled, sitting straighter. He cleared his throat. "Look, I just… I just want what's in the bag,"

"I do believe I told you, or did you not hear? There is nothing in here," England growled and kicked the man's stomach. With a huff of disgust he went away, running in case his kick didn't do well.

He reached the motel, but did not stay long. Checking out as quickly as he could he strived to not make any contact with the woman working. There was something about that woman that sent his nerves on end. She was not particularly beautiful or as sweet looking as Nala, but she was not ugly. Her inky hair was cut to her shoulders and her piercing black eyes tried to pry open England's mind. It was not an easy task for her. It made England horrible uncomfortable. When he gave back the key, his fingers touched cold skin. Not the kind of cold that your fingers get after playing in the snow, but a kind of cold that was bone deep. As if the woman had fingers made of this snow. England shivered and left without looking back. He made his way out, but he could have sworn those black, thick eyes were still watching him.

He opened his bag when he got into the taxi. His heart fell to his shoes. The arrow was snapped in half, the ink bottle had cracked open and caused the bag to be a completely sticky mess, and the quill was also snapped. The long, thin wand seemed to be safe, but what really worried England were his arms. The ink was dripping off slowly and vaporizing in thin air. The words were quickly becoming no more than dust. The other hand, which held all the places to get back to Melbaneium, was in no better shape. He desperately wished to have taken the time and memorized them. In great despair he remained silent the entire car ride. "STOP!" he said to the cab driver, suddenly.

The driver was startled and pulled over to the sidewalk. "What is it?!"

But England did not answer. He swung open the door and leapt out. Still missing shoes and decent clothing, he was an odd sight in the road. There were no other cars, luckily, but he could not waste time. He continued to run and entered the forest.

Canada was in this very forest, trying to talk with the badger, who was growling at him for sleeping his hole. "I'm sorry!" Canada had pleaded, "I didn't know!"

"Aye, ye didn' know ye big oaf! What brings ye to this 'ere part o' the woods?" the badger had swatted at him, poking Canada's big white furry behind.

"Reall—Arthur!" Canada began and added quickly, seeing as England had run over. England crawled on Canada's back. The badger scoffed and squirmed back into his (rather mashed) home.

"Go on! We have no time! Do you know where the nearest lake is?" England's urgency startled Canada, who in truth had no idea where this lake was, into running as fast as he could. He pawed the ground and headed where the most trees were. England held fast and scanned the area for tents. Minutes upon minutes passed and nothing but dense forest greeted his vision. Luck was finally coming, when a bright blue tent was spotted at the shore of a lake.

They were so close—merely trees stride away—when Canada abruptly tumbled over a rock and fell over. England yelled and found that there was no fur to hold onto. He slipped off of Canada's bare, human back and somersaulted straight forward. He splashed into the lake, his bag slipping off and drifting away. In his hand he held fast to the chipped wand. He tried to cast a spell, but spells do not work here as they do in Melbaneium, where the wand was crafted. England felt the bottom of the lake and pushed himself off. There was a tug on his shirt and pants. He shifted and felt them rip as he burst the surface of water for fresh air. The water was chilly and he looked down to see what happened. His clothing was now but shreds of cloth hanging about his body. The rest were caught in some branches in the water. He splashed around for a few minutes, forgetting that he could swim. Pulling himself out of the water, he felt the hurting part on his forehead. It felt wet, and not from the water. He saw his head was bleeding and cursed whatever he could think off. England's pale white body was dotted with bright purple bruises and red scratches.

"Are you okay, sir?!" a voice called from the tent. Out ran a young lady, no more than 25, with brown hair and beautifully russet eyes. She pulled him to the shore and studied his body over.

"Really I'm fine, the worry is my friend over there," England pointed to Canada. Canada was laying on the ground, bleeding in several faces and just as bruised. As he spoke those words, from the other tent emerged Japan. He spotted Canada and ran over, seemingly ignoring England.

While this went on, the lady had swum out to grab the bag which was drifting all by its lonesome in the center of the lake. She handed the sopping wet back to England and smiled. "My name is Jenny, and yours?"

England gave her an extensive and calculating look. "You know me very well, Jenny. Jenny the Daughter of Clovers," Jenny laughed in response and shook her head.

"Okay then, sir. Do have a fever or something? No one uses those names anymore," she rolled her eyes. England had a look on his face that resembled a very annoyed skunk. "You live around here? Want a ride home?"

England stood up, gave his bag a stern tug and turned away. He entered the other tent and saw America, who didn't say hello. Neither did Japan. The only person to respond to England's intrusion was Canada, who shrugged.

"My, my, why are you all so quiet?" England said, laughing nervously.

Japan glared, he had a black eye and a bleeding lip. America looked at England warily. They had some unspoken agreement to be irritated at England and the poor lad didn't quite understand.

"Well, I guess… We need you. Melbaneium—and pardon me for sounding mad—is in deep peril and you and several others are the only ones who can save her! The poor world is crumbling as we speak, and if it crumbles, then… Then…"

"You've gone crazy," America stated, and turned his attention back to Canada. He was bitter from the other day. England didn't bid him a happy birthday, no one did. It appeared to have disappeared from their minds.

"No, no, please do come… Please, just come with me, we promised! You said it would be fun to join!" England got on his knees and pleaded.

"No. My final answer is no. Now, go, go away. Your plane already left. We don't need any more pain, we get that enough as nations," America said angrily. His voice began as a quiet, stinging hiss and grew in volume and fury. "Look at what happened to Japan? To Canada! Don't even begin to me about the state of the others!"

"I thought you said no one would remember," England turned to Canada, pulling the snapped arrow out of his bag. It was blotchy from the ink and the tip was cracked. He gave that to Japan and looked ready to cry. He looked at Canada with such horrible misery.

Canada looked away. "Only you and I forgot," his cheek tingled and he touched it with his fingertips. "It's unexplainable," now his cheek burned and grew crimson. "I mean, that's what… they… they left… because…" Canada closed his eyes and fell to the side. He looked to be asleep, but would not be easily woken. They shook him and poured water on his eyes, but he was sleeping like the dead. His heart beat lazily and Japan turned his face over. The red, circular mark was growing black. It was as if some ink had fallen on it. Out of it, grew thin lines. They twirled and stretched, covering Canada's left cheek entirely. They moved down quickly to his body. Oddly enough, it only covered his left side. The lines started to glow and curvy words were seen.

_Dread the dark_

_Fear shadows_

_The cold is not your friend_

England's eyes widened and he touched the word "dark". He let out a half-shriek when the black vines came off of Canada's body and latched onto his fingers. Japan and America had forgotten their rage. Japan grabbed the knife (the one he still had from the encounter with that mouse) and chopped the spidery creature. There was a sizzling sound and it pulled off of Canada. Canada's cheek still had a red mark on it, but the creature was off him and he was slowly waking.

He sat up and saw before him a dark, black figure of a mouse. The mouse had a gnarled snout and wispy tail—and it looked exactly like the one Japan saw before. It was made of the dark matter from Canada's body and Japan screamed. The man rushed to his bag. He threw the blade to England and grabbed his bow and arrow. America was wrestling with the mouse-creature and coughing. Black and red spurted from the sides of his mouth and Japan show his arrow. The arrow went right through the ink-creature and barely missed America's hand.

"Use the arrow I gave you!" England called out and slashed at the beast. It recoiled at the sight of the blade, which was steaming hot and quaking within England's grasp. He slashed at its tail and it burst into wispy smoke.

Meanwhile, Japan was struggling to fit the twisted arrow into the bow. "Are you sure about this? It doesn't work!" Japan cried.

"Throw it!" England slashed at the mouse's paw but missed narrowly. Japan grabbed the arrow, which was laced with ink the burned red-hot. He threw it, with great care, at the mouse's chest.

The mouse gave a shrill cry that remained ringing in the forest even after the creature burst into dust. Japan's hand was burned, and deeply too. He wrapped a bandage around it and England's knife ceased to shake. He tucked it in his clothing and looked at America and Japan. They held one another's eyes for long moments. England shifted uncomfortably on his feet and Japan decided to break the silence.

"I'm sorry about that," he said, a little smile playing on his lips.

"It's alright, I don't blame you," England wanted to ask if they would come back to Melbaneium, but held his tongue in fear.

"We'll come," America seemed to have read his thoughts.

England felt at ease, "where are the others?" he repeated his question. And, again, he was greeted by uneasy looks.

"We don't know, really," Japan answered, "we tried calling them, but their phones are not picking up. I'm worried that they're still in Melbaneium,"


	16. Luna and the Lonely Planet

"O Melbane this is just too weird, you mean you believe this?" Alfred exasperated, pacing around his living room, head hanging down in a tangled frustration.

"Calm down, I never said that," Kiku added in, somewhat frustrated. He was in a long armchair, his thin legs peeping through a white robe. A delicate pipe lay in his equally slender fingers, which brushed away some hair from his face mindlessly. "What didn't I say, by the way?" he smiled.

Alfred stopped and tugged at his own robe, in obvious discontent. "You said that we don't belong here! Come now, we were born and raised here in Melbaneium. You met me in your mother's garden. I was tugging some flowers out of the grass, we were five mind you, and giving them to you. You remember? Some soil still clung to the roots. The petals were all dirty. I was embarrassed and messy, yet you just laughed, called me a 'silly ass' and took them. You were always mellow like that," he drifted off, lost in memory. Turning he looked at Kiku, blushing somewhat at how the white robe exposed all the right parts at all the right times. He sat down next to him on the arm chair.

"Where ever did you get that idea?" Kiku laughed and sat up, wrapping his arms around Alfred's shoulders lazily. "I said we don't belong at that party Nala is throwing not far away."

It was Alfred's turn to be confused. "What? That's weird, I don't even remember that," he cleared his throat and kissed Kiku's forehead. "Well I was being a silly ass then! Do forgive me." He let loose a pout that melted Kiku's heart.

"Oh alright, I forgive you." He teased and paused. "Wait," he held a finger to Alfred's puckered lips. "I don't remember…" he winced and leaned closer to Alfred who held him, jaw set. Kiku shivered and his breathing became choppy little pieces. "O sweet Melbaneium… How did we get here? I can vaguely remember a lake. That's all, a lake! There are no lakes for three miles. How did we get here? Where is here?" he sounded alarmed, and afraid as a deer in headlights.

"Sh, it's nothing. Please be quiet, okay my little rice ball?" Alfred added in, hoping it had some sort of affect. "Shush, shush. It's alright. We just were at a lake and you fell asleep. I took you home, we went there for a trip, remember? I caught some fish to—"

"There are no fish at Lake Glonir."

"Ha, you got me, point taken. Just for a relaxing trip, you know," Alfred calmed his breathing and watched Kiku nod, the fake memories were working. He was afraid that the spell Arthur had cast would wear off, but Alfred's (charming) voice did the brilliant job of packing the spell in. "Get into your formal robes now, Kiku, the party is to start in an hour," he looked at his watch. Rather than hold numbers, there were tiny images of the sun and moon. Where twelve ought to be, there was half a sun and half a moon drawn together as if glued in, or rather the crescent moon was hanged perfectly around the edge of the sun. The sun had a bright blue eye staring out and the moon a brown eye looking in. At three's place, there was a picture of the sun with his eyes open, at six with his eyes half closed, and at nine with the moon's blue eyes opening as if from a dream. Right now the single, black clock hand was pointing between the sleepy Sun and waking Moon.

Japan stood in the shared bedroom, his white robe hanging over the side of the bed, which had cloths made of silk and embroidered with the design of a bear and fox sleeping under the moon and sun. The rest of the beige room was lit by a candle, causing the colors to look brighter and warmer. Flowers, growing from vines that had snuck in through the round window decorated the edges of the room. There were two heavy wood doors, each with a different design. One was of a bear looking at a pine tree, the other of a fox sleeping under the same pine tree. They were carved in, painted over with light paints and flowers.

The door with the bear led to a bathroom, which held a lavatory and a large bathtub on the other side. It was made of a golden sort of gem that heated the water, which came from the well under the window. A large bucket stood at the window, which was curved outwards, allowing for a small half-circle platform. The drain was plugged with a cork, and due to water and all, Alfred and Kiku often bathed together. Kiku blushed at the memories as he walked into this bathroom, holding his formal robes in one hand and bottle in the other. He walked to the mirror, which took up a good chunk of the wall, and changed. The gown he wore was white as well, but red lined the rims which themselves were rimmed with golden threads.

The bottle was a form of make-up, not that Kiku wore any. It was a powdery, flaky substance that could be applied to the hair of males and females alike. Kiku found it difficult to find a male robe that fit his frame but nonetheless he found one that Nala kindly shortened to his height. He wore the robe with pride.

Male formal robes are often thicker and cover more of the body than the female formal robes, which fit tightly around their waist (tied with a ribbon) and had light, almost translucent sleeves. Regular robes were the same for men and woman alike, colors varied. They were thick and meant for business.

Kiku stepped out and found Alfred waiting at the curving stairs with his golden formal robes on, eyeing his watch. "Ready?" Alfred looked up, smiling his stunning smile. The ladies of the town were jealous needless to say. He laced his arm through Alfred's and headed the party. Their home was small and earthy as the very ground. The front door had a bear and fox drawn on it. The fox was nuzzled to the bear and both animals were looking up, where the moon stood directly overhead. These two were drawn with gold and shimmered in any light.

Alfred and Kiku walked through the night, looking at fireflies that fluttered about the small and happy town. The homes were roughly the same material, but of different shapes and sizes. The paths that winded through the village was a route empty of flowers, but filled with grass. Most residents walked by barefoot anyway.

"Do you see that star?" Alfred pointed upwards towards the shimmering sky. Kiku looked in that direction, nodding.

"Oi!" came a powerful voice from the house with the tree and moon painted on the door. Nala peeped through, her bushy hair the color of copper surrounded a round, smiling face. "You here for star gazing or eating? Come on in!"

The pair entered the house, which was encased by velveteen carpets and curtains. Soft to the touch and covered with roses, they lined everything but a thin walkway. The doors, which had rabbits and flowers carved in, were all closed. There was a low hanging art that introduced a large table set up with the same velvet cloth and roses.

"Looks more like a date than a party," Alfred joked, chuckling and looking at Nala.

She gave a booming laugh and her face shone with kindness and wisdom. "Well with all the snuggling, holding hands, slow walking, and star gazing I say it was a date. Plus a few extra people, that is. Now, have you brought your own Kerma?"

Kiku pulled out a small, curved golden object. It looked like a double-sided teapot, just thinner and engraved with the same fox and bear. "We switched to a family Kerma last Eve." Kiku explained as Nala, without touching, examined it.

"It looks lovely," she breathed, "set it on the table." She pointed to a low table made of pine. In the middle sat Nala's own Kerma, same in size as Kiku and Alfred's but it was velvet and a pine tree, with a snowflake hanging above it, was engraved. A Kerma is a sort of instrument. The engraving was done with tiny little holes that let out air when blown into from either or both sides. Some Kermas had more than two, but four was the maximum. Imagine squeezing in five separate people around a small object no bigger than a grown man's fist. Often families of five or more had small games to determine who would play it. If a certain family member was considerably good at it, then that person is designated as the one who blows into it each year.

Eve was a nick-name given to the day before the Klingen Holiday. It is a holiday all creatures in Melbaneium attend, it honors the earth and trees and all that is above. At midnight, every family plays a single note. It differentiates from mouth to mouth. Some mouths played sweet, high tunes. Others played low tunes, deep as the sea. There are those who play it so wonderfully, it sounds like liquid gems pouring down a waterfall made of stardust. The instrument itself sounds like an oboe, perhaps a bit windier and heartier. Friends gather together at Klingen, often at a good chef's home. They feast, laugh, and play the instrument. They close their eyes and face to the sky. No words need be said.

Soon an old lady walked in, followed closely by a beaver and rabbit (who had a bandage on his left flank) who held out their limbs in fear the lady would trip and fall. She shooed them off multiple times, but laughed as she did so. Nala often described her with 'she's as patient as water and stubborn as a mountain'.

"Saphira!" Nala called, hugging the elderly witch.

"Now, now, no tears! Jenny, get the Kerma and set it on the table, yes yes…" Saphira said, pointing to the table. Jenny, the beaver nodded and grabbed the Kerma from the small sack and placed it down. Kiku studied it, no touching, and noticed the carving. It was of a beaver and rabbit, looking at the old woman, and behind them was a star.

"I missed you! Haven't seen you since last year," Nala brushed away tears from her eyes with a pleasantly chubby finger. "I almost though you wouldn't come."

Kiku said, so quietly he was surprised Saphira even heard, "What a lovely Kerma."

"Thank you dear, and so is yours. A family one I suppose? How darling," Saphira smiled and looked around the table, "Euh, where is my seat?" Nala directed her to the head of the table and opened the door for more visitors. First came in Wang Yao (his Kerma had a dragon on it) who scolded Kiku before hugging his brother with a fit of laughter. After that came Tino and Berwald (who shared a Kerma, on it was a Lion and Arctic fox resting in snow), "Noah" and Lucas (being brothers, they had two wolves on their Kerma), and other neighbors.

Seating themselves around the table, the feast began. "Pass me the potatoes!" "Salt, anyone got the salt?" "Don't step on me, Martha!" "Sorry…" the fun was had and the few children grew bored quickly and began to play. Nala was an easy-going lady, who showed them a play room filled with play-things ranging from books that told the stories themselves and floating play-tea-sets. The children grinned with excitement and played, Martha among them.

All the while, one seat and one plate remained untouched. The velvet seat looked shy and lonely among the warm bodies in warm robes.

Several older daughters stared at Kiku haughtily, they were no younger than 15 and had their hair done up with (too many) of the sparkles and wore tight robes that ranged from pink to red. Kiku noticed and giggled, kissing Alfred who was caught off guard just to tick them off a tad.

Alfred didn't mind the gentle kiss and returned it. He didn't know the reason until he saw the three girls dreamily stare at him. They were sisters. The youngest wore the lightest shade of pink and the oldest red. The oldest was 18 and ready to go off to a university down in Firefly, a nearby institute for robe-makers. She would be heading off in a month's time. Klingen was in the last embers of summer.

The children ran back into the room and the chatter stopped when a low horn bellowed. "Everyone! Get your Kerma, it's almost time!"

They gathered to their own, paying mind to not accidentally touch one that was not theirs. Kiku placed his lips at ready in front of his side, as did Alfred opposite him. They looked into eachother's faces, excitement brimming.

"Ready?" Saphira called and tapped a fork against her glass, "begin!"

The sound was quiet and tentative at first, growing strength and courage with each note and second. It filled the whole house. Wolves howled, joining in, outside the doors. The whole world was playing and the sound, like the birth of a star, played on into the skies.

The hum began to fade and silence took over. It lingered for moments as everyone had their eyes closed and faces upwards. Silence was overcome again, with gentle words from each lips, saying their thank-yous and words of love.

The clock ticked to 12:12 and the chatter resumed, the children giggled and went back playing, the adults spoke of the gossip, and the three sisters fought uselessly over Alfred who roared with laughter and picked up Kiku bridal-style. "How art thou my love?" he said loudly, not shouting, in a voice that would befit a play.

Kiku played along and brought a hand to his forehead, around them the audience waited in anticipation. "O! Woe is I, my love, I hath thought thou would never come! Yet, thou hast come!" Kiku sighed and suppressed a scream of laughter.

"My dearest, my shining sky, my water that brings life to the flames inside thee, I shall take you away to my palace where you shall be my Queen-King!"

"Ah! Is it that thou wishes for a Queen-King and not a lover? Is it?"

"Not! Thou hast spoken ill of thee, but thou hast been forgiven! I shall follow thou to the ends of time and earth need I capture the heart," Alfred set Kiku down and got on his knee, pulling something from his robes. "Will you be my Queen-King?"

Kiku blushed red. (Family Kermas are given to those who share a common household, not particularly marriage.) Kiku fumbled over his words and brought his hands to his face, tears forming. "Yes! Yes I will!" he cried out, happiness surging through him as he knelt down to kiss Alfred. Alfred placed the ring, with was made with golden twine on Kiku's finger, kissing it afterwards.

The household cheered, rising and congratulating. Even the sisters cheered. Loudest, too, mind you. "Invite us to the wedding!" They cried. Melbaneian weddings were not a thing to miss.

"Everyone here is invited!" Alfred called out and Kiku hugging him tightly. More cheering erupted.

"Look at their Kerma!" someone shouted and all attention faced the bear and fox which were shining now. Kiku and Alfred edged closer.

The light danced and the engravings shifted, coming to life and dancing around. The fox and bear touched noses and chased each other. They stood on their hind legs and slowly grew and grew, until they looked like Kiku and Alfred. The engravings held hands and danced under the Sun and Moon. The light sparkled and they returned to the bear and Fox, who were touching noses, above the fox's head was a moon and above the bear's was a sun.

"Look at their hands!" the same voice shouted. The back of Alfred's hand was a sun, drawn in with what appeared to be light—a golden light like the sun. Kiku had a moon, that glowed blue and white like the moon.

"What does it mean?" Martha, a curly-haired 9 year-old asked, watching at a respectful distance (meaning behind her mother's legs).

Saphira began walking forward and the crowd made a swath without the merest hint of hesitation. She looked wisely at the hands, not taking them into her own. She made a humming sound and thought for a while.

"You will figure their meaning in time, my dears," she looked up and touched the light which vanished then. Remaining was paint the color of the light that had previously been. "As for now, why don't you sing, Kiku?"

Kiku, though startled, cleared his throat and did as he was told.

_'Ne, ne, sharimase, neita kono kawa isa okite wa kuko no ne kororom sunani kusa…_

_Nein kororom nein kororom _

_Nei nei kosha sharimase kyo wa niju hoho nichisa hasura _

_Kono kno ne kororom niiyama iri _

_Nien kororom, nein kororom_

_Ni ai ei ma ii totoki_

_Nanto uute onna musna_

_Iisho kono kono ne kororom mai me na yo ni _

_Nein kororom nein kororm'_

He finished the lullaby and was applauded. "Another! Do one together, Alfred!" the girls said, smiling happily. "If you're going to have a family your ought to sing together!"

Kiku and Alfred, blushing turned to each other.

_'Constant as the stars above_

_Always know, that you are loved_

_And my love shining in you_

_Will help you make your dreams come true_

_Will help you dreams come true_

_The lamb lies down and rests its head_

_On its mother's downy bed_

_Dolphin plays in the moonlight's glow_

_And butterfly dreams of a violet rose_

_Dreams of a violet rose_

_I'll cradle you in my arms tonight_

_As sun embraces the moonlight_

_The clouds will carry us off tonight_

_Our dream will run deep like the sea…_

_Constant as the stars above_

_Always know, that you are loved_

_And my love shining in you_

_Will help you make your dreams come true_

_Will help you dreams come true…'_

They finished and another round of applause burst up, others were begged to sing, in all the commotion Alfred and Kiku didn't notice the marks on their hands glowing. They held those hands together, and the light shimmered.

When Tino had finished his song, everyone turned to Alfred and Kiku, who turned to kiss. Their skins shimmered and Kiku was glowing blue and golden. When the kiss was broken and the continued to look at eachother, singing in whispery voices; '_When you live your dreams… You'll find destiny…' _

Saphira smiled and made her leave and paused at the door, "Stay close to Nala," she whispered to Kiku, who looked confused. She left before his question entered his lips. Grunting he turned back to Alfred.

"I'm tired…" he said suddenly, growing weak in his knees.

"Nala!" Alfred said, pulling Kiku into his arms. Nala rushed over and directed him to a spare room. He laid Kiku on the bed. His mouth glowed, like a fireplace in need of being put out of its misery. The light flickered from gold to blue, eventually deciding to mix the colors and being done with it. Kiku's eyes flickered under his eyes lids and his arm held onto Alfred's. The markings shone frantically, as if they were panicking.

The light went through to Kiku, whose mouth opened wider and the lights danced the samba. Kiku breathed rapidly, painfully. He clutched his stomach and gripped Alfred's hand. "What do you need?!" Alfred forced himself not to shout, but was unsuccessful at best. He held Kiku's other hand.

Kiku opened his eyes, and the irises were different colors. One eye was blue, the other was gold. The colors almost seemed to have burst and exploded inside him. He gave a roaring cough and breath, all the light ejected from him, curling into a swirling mass that cried faintly, like a baby. Alfred stared at it, and the light formed into some distinguishable matter.

It was a baby.

Alfred stood up and grabbed the bundle before it plummeted onto the bed. "O Melbane! It's a baby!" he cried frantically and Nala walked in, holding a cloth. Alfred, unsure of everything and feeling dizzy himself, handed the crying baby to Nala, who hushed it and wiped gently.

"A baby girl!" she exclaimed, smiling, "and the mum's asleep." Alfred looked at Kiku, and sure enough he was fast asleep.

"What. Happened?" he asked warily, brushing Kiku's hair away from his peaceful face.

"You had a baby," Nala chuckled and handed the girl to Alfred who held it as one would hold flammable equipment near a fire.

"What?" he asked deadpanning.

"You had a baby, here, I'll explain," she sat down and wiped Kiku's forehead. "You had an act of true love near your Kerma on Eve. The magic in a Kerma is powerful, and is activated in certain ways. The way you did it was marvelous. You were close to the Kerma and it gave some magic to you. The Sun and Moon, don't ask me what that means. Afterwards you both sung lullabies and someone suggested a child. Saphira told you to sing, Melbane knows what she's planning, and then you kissed with the magic still ringing in the air. So it gave you a baby. Using Kiku's and your genes, fusing them together, and using the huge amounts of magic, it created a baby. Much less painful and shorter than the real way, I should know," she added in quietly and Kiku woke up. He felt a sudden affection towards the baby and held it in his arms.

"Already a mom, huh?" Alfred laughed, trying to calm down.

"Don't worry, it's so rare that it's barely mention anymore." Nala added.

"Then how do you…?" Kiku said, comforting the baby.

"Hm?"

"How do you know about it?" Alfred asked, wanting to scold her for not telling, but then again… A baby is something that would have been otherwise impossible for the two men.

"Aye, I had it myself. So happy, until…" she looked away, playing with her hair. "Why don't you ask me my real name?"

"Isn't Nala a real name?"

"No, I thought you knew very well about cover names, _Alfred_?" she added sharply and Alfred looked away.

"Oh, alright, what's your real name?"

"Not like I'll tell you," Nala said and stood, "starts with an 'A'. Good-night! Stay here for the night, everyone else has gone home."

Kiku and Alfred watched her leave. Shortly after Kiku broke into laughter and scooted over, allowing Alfred into the bed. The baby girl was now wrapped in a cloth Nala had given him while explaining. "A girl, our baby girl," Alfred said in awe, looking at Kiku with a smile.

"What shall we name her?" Kiku asked in a breathy voice.

"Luna, how about it?"

"I like that, how do you, Luna?" he whispered, but Luna was dozing off. He chuckled and looked at Alfred. The sung together quietly,

_'Constant as the Stars above…' _

The three fell asleep.

The next years went by like a dream. The party was held at various places each year, and Luna's birthday was celebrated at their home. Her room had a Sun and Moon painted on it.

Luna often never left her parent's sides, but liked spending time at auntie Nala's and with Saphira. She became close friends with Martha eventually.

Luna had her father's eyes and sunny smile, her mother's facial features and fair skin. Her hair was a blonde color in the sunshine. Curious enough, at night, it shimmered with silver and black. She was not an average child.

When they went to the pond or took baths, she would make little waves just by staring at the water. In winter, her very presence in a room warmed it.

When Luna was five, Kiku decided to sit down and share a story. He and Alfred often sung lullabies at night. Sometimes Kiku worked at night (he worked at a school, and astronomy was often his subject) and sometimes Alfred was too tired to even reach the bed. Kiku often found him dozing on the couch next to a pile of books no one bothered to pick up, it made for a dandy table. Alfred was brawn, he made things and repaired them. It was a steady life, and their adventures with Arthur had long been lost in time.

On Luna's fifth birthday, as I was saying before I rudely interrupted myself, Kiku sat by her bed after tucking her snuggly in. He began telling it in a soothing voice. "Do you see the stars, my sweet?" he pointed towards the open window that showed the clear stars and full moon. Luna nodded, she never spoke very much. "Well out there, far away, is a planet. Do you know what a planet is?" Luna nodded and turned her bright blue eyes to him, they shimmered like gems on snow.

_"Far away, so far you cannot see it even on a clear night, is a planet. A planet where the sun and moon are in the sky together orbits a dying sun. The sun is giving the rest of its life to watching the planet. It loved the moon of the planet, so much so, that they remained in the sky together. They watched over the planet, which was their daughter, with love and care. This planet only had one little girl, but the girl did not mind. She was never alone, the sun and moon always watched her. The planet always cradled her. This was her world, gifted to her by the sun and moon who loved her too. _

_"One day the girl found that she was no longer alone, there was something else on that planet. A big and sad tree looked at her and its leaves glistened with water. The tree was crying, the girl noticed, 'o Mr. Tree! What is the problem?' she asked it._

_"'I am so old and lonely,' the tree replied. The little girl was puzzled. _

_"'Why are you so lonely, Mr. Tree? The sun and moon keep me company here, on my home. You live here too, so they keep you company too. So do the flowers and grass. Is it perhaps that you wish for someone to talk to?' the little girl asked wisely, she was a very wise girl. _

_"'That would be most kind of you, but I have grown old a weary,' the tree replied hoarsely. 'My son is on the other side of the planet. I am afraid he will die lonely as I did, for I did not know that the sun and moon were watching me.' The little girl nodded and held one of the willow's leaves, gently caressing it and whispering words that comforted him. With these words in her mind, she ran as fast as she can to the other side of the world. It was a small world, and it did not take long to reach the old willow's son. It was a baby tree, and was surprised to see the little girl._

_"'Who are you? Are there others? I feel lonely,' it said sadly and swayed with the breeze. 'Am I really lonely?'_

_"'No,' the girl said, standing tall. 'Do you see the sun and moon? Do you see the grass, earth, and flowers? They are here for you, and so am I. You see, I am also very young as you are. Your father told me to tell you that.' The willow and girl became great friends and played together, living happily ever after." _

He kissed Luna good night and put out the candle.

_(I used a Japanese lullaby and "Constant as the Stars Above". The story is of my own doing. I apologize for such a wait for this chapter. Hope you enjoyed) _


	17. That Voice

Luna sat under the table, her hair—the color of starlight—wrapped in a bun and her small ten-year-old limbs tucked away, save for a single lengthy hand that played with a small ball. She rolled it gently with the tip of her fingers, watching it with her never ending silence.

"Luna?" Kiku's voice came through, "what are you doing under the table, my moon shine?" He leaned over, getting on his knee and looking at Luna. She looked back sleepily and crawled out, holding the toy with one, sallow hand. "Don't you want to play with the other children?"

Luna looked down, shaking her head slowly.

"Are you sure? Martha likes playing with you."

She said nothing.

"Why?"

She mumbled something unheard.

"Come again?"

"They don't like playing with me." Her voice was silky, beautiful and rare. Yet, it was quiet from underuse, deliciously quiet.

"Why do you say that? You're much too young for teenage issues." Kiku chuckled and rubbed Luna's back. She cracked a smile and hugged him.

"They say I'm strange, at school. Martha is too old to play."

Kiku kissed her forehead and asked, "Everyone goes through that… Why didn't you tell me about school?"

"You'd think I'm strange, too." Luna said, before coughing and dropping back into silence. Kiku's promises to never do such a thing were joined by silence. He worried that was the cause for the disturbance. Children who remained silent, with their noses locked in books and their thoughts drifting elsewhere, were picked on. There is nothing more painful than a child's cruelty, though, funnily enough, Kiku's own childhood was… Deep… Deeply buried in his heart, he'd need a drill the size of a continent to reach them. Vaguely he wondered if a memory charm had been worked on him. There were memories of a childhood, someone's childhood, some childhood that was given to him, but not from his own vision. Before that, there was nothing. Only a sticky fogginess that drug on tiredly, as if chained by diamonds to a wall in his mind remained. Pained, he stood up and cleaned his expression.

"Come now," Kiku patted his robe. It was a soft beige material that had been worn over the past years. Luna's home robe was dainty, a calm emerald which hung low from her wrists and had a pleasantly ruffled collar. Luna stood and gathered the ends of her robes, which hung too low, and walked with Kiku to the garden. She held his hand tightly and trailed shyly. Kiku lead her to the gate, the warm sunshine greeted their cold toes. "Let's head to the shop. A new school year is ready to start, and new robes are in order." Luna smiled. "I know you love shopping. Can't say I do, I like shopping for food. The smells, the mountain greens, the herbs… Do you know what shop is daddy's favorite?" Luna shook her head. "He loves the furniture store!" the girl giggled and looked bewildered. "Yes! He loves the make-shift, he says, but there's more, I bet."

So they continued to the store, a red shop, which resembled a tent more than a building. The inside was lit by the single hole at the tip-top. Kiku approached the lady who was busily sewing something purple. "Where are the second-school outfits?" he asked and Luna squeaked when the woman snapped up. She had a puckered and wrinkled mouth. Her eyes were magnified by large spectacles. She was a praying-mantis school teacher, if one would exist. She curtly pointed to a table surrounded by various mothers. Luna walked over. She was smaller than the other students. Yet, they were a polite crowd and moved to let her in.

"I like the green one," Luna said quietly, "can we get it?"

Kiku looked it over, feeling its heavy texture between two fingers. It smelled of lilacs. "I don't see why not." Luna giggled and hugged him.

School uniforms in Herrin (the town where Luna lives, a northern part of Melbaneium) don't work like in Earth. Colors vary depending on years. The first years have only light shades, second medium shades, and third dark shades. White is blank, ready for knowledge. First years have light-weight robes, which are thin and airy. The third years have heavy-weight robes, thick and not too flexible.

Students don't complain. Residents in Herrin play games lifting weights. Who could hold the most pots atop their head, who could carry the most bags of potatoes to mummy, who could pick up the most people? Were all games played by the children of Herrin. Downwind, which was literally downwind of Herrin, gossiped that Herrin mothers and fathers tied weights to their children when they are five years old. Downwind has a population of elves and thin humans, they partake in archery and running, therefore lifting weights was most unappealing. Terra, north of Herrin, are the "out-there" groups, made of centaurs, humans, and pixies. Their focus lies with the earth, the "hippies" of Melbaneium. Eau was home to swimmers, Ment to the brains, and amongst the centre of the towns, which there are dozens of, lies Clan. Clan is the center of it all, the upper-schools, colleges, are top-rate. One can find nearly any creature or ethnicity in Clan. All these towns celebrate Klingen, and are tied together by the sun and moon.

Kiku paid the five kilns and headed home, with Luna holding the bag which held her uniform close to her. Before reaching home, they stopped at the grocer's first.

To their surprise, Alfred was home. He sat fixing a table which groaned, it was often pestered by Alfred and it really didn't need any fixing. Most people bite their nails or eat, but no, Alfred "fixed" things when stressed.

"What's on your mind, Al?" Kiku said, placing several bags on the table. "You seem very stressed today." Alfred replied with a grunt. Luna walked over to him, touching his arm. A smile came over his waned face.

He let out a slow and dry laugh. "It's nothing sweety," he kissed her forehead, "nothing to worry about."

_Nothing to worry about…_

The pain in Kiku's eye.

_It's nothing…_

Kiku looked at Luna, wondering and fearing for her suddenly. A bitter distrust flushed through him.

_This is the man who gave me the ring that lies on my thumb. _

Silly silly Kiku! What was he thinking? He trusted Alfred with all his heart. He smiled and looked at Luna, who stood fiddling with her robe sleeves. They remained silent, and Kiku coughed a small, tiny cough. Hardly making a sound, it still caught the attention it so desired.

"Yes, Kiku?" Alfred looked up, smiling with a glittering gleam in his blue eyes. Behind that joy and brilliant personality, something was cradled in the baby blues. Was it fear? Was it worry? Kiku knew he was over thinking, and he shamed himself for it.

"Nothing, dear," he breathed calmly, and walked closer. He placed a hand on Alfred's cheek and drew him in for a kiss. Short lived it was, but beautiful all the same. Alfred, grinning into Kiku's lips closer his eyes. Kiku did the same, and they remained with their lips touching in a solemn embrace.

And Luna smiled.

She was worried. When mummy and daddy fought, when they were tensely inspecting, suspecting, each other. She knew, she knew daddy kept a secret. A secret so deep and frightening he even kept it from Mummy. It was in his eyes, the way he sometimes looked tired and older than he looks. Mummy sees it, but doesn't know what it is that he sees. Almost as if he can't see… Or perhaps he doesn't want to see…

Luna fought her thoughts and blandly bit her nails. Kiku's soft hand stopped her wandering fingers, he shook his head. She wiggled them and squirmed in the gentle silence. She may love her parents showing affection, but she was hungry. Placing long fingers on her small stomach, and stroking it in circles, her message arrived just in time. An angry growl erupted from inside her as Kiku went inside the kitchen to prepare the newly bought vegetables and fruits.

Alfred turned to face her, sliding something from out of his robe's sleeve and placing it in Luna's hand. "Go on, food will be ready in a mere moment."

She studied the object in her hand. It was the size and shape of a pocket watch. Alfred nodded and she scampered to her room.

Upon opening it, she found it was a music box. The small knob at the tip wound it off and opened the top. Inside was a small figurine of the fox, bear, and moon painted on their front door. Curiously, she ran a finger over them. The moon sparkled when her finger graced it, the fox and bear appeared to blink and she sharply drew back. Twisting it in her hands and examining the outside of it, she found symbols and stars and all sorts of wonderful drawings coating the thing. They glowed and shimmered, in apparent delight to Luna's gentle caresses. Gasping in wonder, she turned the knob—just a small twist. It played a single, tinkling note—"Dinner's ready!" Luna slammed the music box shut, shoving it into her robe pocket. Running down the stairs, it made a sound like bells.

The dinner table. Everyone's favorite place. The warm table top, and steaming delicious delightful food placed atop such a grand table. All sorts of things, some nights it was steamed vegetables with lamb, others it was salads. On happy days the table was full (and Luna was fortunate to find that each day was a happy day at the table) and hot. On sad days, for sad families who still managed to smile, there was little to eat. On the days labeled "eve of adventure" there were only small cakes, traveler's cakes. Food was rich and meaty in Herrin.

Luna looked much like a bird, but ate like a wolf. A great big wolf with a large mouth and large teeth that devoured all food! Though, not quite with that ferocity. She ate dimply, taking polite bites and polite servings. She always took more servings, her hunger was never ending, but she managed it. Her mummy's humble and calm personality shun brightly in her. Kiku was proud. Alfred laughed heartily and ate messily. Never disgusted, Kiku watched him with a laugh and shining eyes.

"You oaf! Take smaller bites."

"Nnmph!"

"What? Didn't quite catch that."

A swallow.

"Nope!"

A laugh and a smile.

Luna loved the small hole on the top of her bedroom. It was really a window, actually, but so round and dense it looked like a hole. Luna called it such at five, and the word remained. The hole allowed moonlight to flood in through its golden wires. It filled the room with plutonian light, white and soothing to Luna. She reached for the pocket music box and held it in her palm. The silver and copper stared at the ceiling, glistening. Luna started to open it, but decided well against such an idea. _Not now… _A voice inside her said. _Not in the moonlight. _

So she set it on her bedside, by the candle holder (which had been vacant of any candle for ages—Kiku was worrisome that Luna would burn her delicate skin) and promptly dozed off. Nodding away into the abyss of sleep, something called for her.

A gentle whisper, that of a young man. She started, sitting up in her bed and peering into the darkness. "Hullo?" she called, "Anyone there?"

"Ah, I forgot you could not see me." The voice said, a trifle of sound fluttered around.

Luna stood up, her thin night robe moved against her ankles, as if shaken by a breeze. "What's your name?"

"What's your name?" some silhouette flitted in the shadows.

"I asked you first, sir, but… I'm… Anna, call me Anna." She lied, names were a very important thing. Giving away one's real name to a stranger can be dreadfully hazardous.

"No need to lie to me." Gently, the voice said and something loomed behind Luna. Her neck tickled and she turned, ready to see some man there. Nothing. Nothing but darkness and moonlight there.

"Then why not tell me your name?" Luna replied stubbornly.

"How would you know I would tell you my real name? You didn't give me yours, after all."

Luna was growing curious, rather than frustrated. The proper amount of tom-foolery dazzled her. She was only a little girl, after all. Her dream was to have her own proper pixie, they sold like pets! But mummy and daddy refused, they said pixies were cunning and mean. They pinched and poked and teased. "Alright, give me a fake name then."

"Romano, call me that." The voice said, and then it made a small grunt as if happy with that choice. "I'm sorry you can't see me."

Was that an accent Luna could here? There was a small "ah" after each word that didn't end in a vowel. _Can't – ah, call-ah, that-ah. _She had never heard it before. "Where are you from?" she brought the courage to ask.

"Far, far away."

"From a different planet?"

"Not really, more or less, a different world."

"What do you mean?"

Silence.

"I asked, what do you mean different worlds? Where are you from? Downwind? Or are you from the South?"

"I'm afraid I'm from none of those places. Almost from a different planet, but it's a… A bit of a problem to try and explain it all. Perhaps when you're older. You have such a lovely voice, _molto bene!_"

Luna put her fingertips on her pink lips. Surely she had spoken more in this night than in her whole life. "Who are you?" _and why do I trust you?_

"I haven't the time, right now. It'll feel like a single moment to me, but years for you, until we meet again." The tone of his voice dropped unhappily, the last few words were whispered. "Good-bye."

"Good-bye, sir." She whispered back, holding out a hand with three fingers up. A Melbanian way of saying bye.

School started and she entered her first class. The green robe lay heavily but nicely on her shoulders. Her first class was physical activity, training the body with various strength exercises. After that was arithmetic, history, geography, art and patchwork, language, and introductions to astronomy. She loved that class most of all. Though she still had two years to wait before she could go to the night classes, her patience never faltered. Her mum taught the classes after all, and often would invite Luna to come outside and peek through the telescope. He loved to see the cosmos as much as she, and set up the telescope on nights when classes were off. He showed Luna the moon and stars. Bewildered by its vastness, she sustained giggles.

"Mummy?" she had asked, her seven year old eye still watching the planet Venus, "where is the planet of the willow?"

Kiku looked startled, his brown eyes blinking in wonderment. "That planet is so far away, even my telescope couldn't find it." He had replied gently. Luna nodded and looked at the moon.

Now, Luna was working on arithmetic homework, trying to find the sum of some rather giant number. Kiku walked up behind her, offering help which she declined. Though, when he offered a sandwich she gaily accepted and munched away. Done, the sum was found and onto the next homework. It was a report on the history of Herrin through its parting from Downwind. _When elves arrived at Downwind, in 1437,Herrin became the next option. Elves started in, but when they found that faeries had come in first, and their men were limited, they settled with Downwind. Herrin then with using the faeries, separated from Downwind… _

"Are you there?" the voice, same one as those months ago called dimly. She looked up from her writing and peered around.

"Yes mum?" she called. "Did you call?"

"No!" Kiku said, and gave Alfred a look. Luna seemed so talkative these days.

Luna shrugged and continued working, when the voice filtered through her thoughts again.

"Hello?" it called. The words vibrated and echoed in Luna's head.

They were gone. That voice, it was all in her head, and it said not another word for years to come. 

_enjoyed)_


	18. Escaping

She remained in her favorite spot, her bedroom window sill. The moon bounced off her skin, and her long, 18-year old body stretched out to relax. Mummy and Daddy were calmly asleep in their room. A small glint caught her eye, a little pocket-watch hiding under her bed.

It had been ages since Luna last saw the thing, tossing it under the bed out of anger. She told mummy about the strange voice and he grew worried. Luna watched, flexing her small face in a half-frown. Mummy told Daddy and daddy offered a doctor. Mummy grew paler. Daddy remained calm, daddy never loses his temper.

Loses his temper.

(_The distrust in Mummy's eyes…)_

He calmed mummy down and told her it was fine. All children have pretend friends and they grow out of it. Mummy argued that Luna was much too old. Daddy said imagination is not one to peek at age. Mummy relaxed somewhat under daddy's heavy touch and nodded. He brushed away hairs from his eyes and said something Luna could not hear. Daddy replied. The conversation continued until Mummy and Daddy turned to their

(prey)

daughter.

Luna backed off. Daddy placed his worn hands on her shoulders and told her that it was all okay, it was normal, don't talk about it again, sweety. You're scaring us. Don't do that again.

Uncertain, Luna nodded. She grew sad that day, and some silent tears crawled their way out of her eyes. She tossed the music box under the bed and gathered herself. Life continued on and it was forgotten.

Now, seven years later, she was looking at it again. It was lighter and smaller then she remembered it. There were two knobs. Each had a paw-print of different sizes. She chose the smaller one and twisted it. The top mechanically lifted and the figurine inside spun, gently shimmering. _Nen kororom nen kororom…_

She smiled, recalling it was mummy's favorite lullaby. When the song stopped, she twisted the other one. It made a hearty clacking sound and, to her surprised, it played deep humming. Something she could just vaguely remember, when grandmother, daddy's mummy, came to town. It was beautiful, but she could barely hold on to the memory.

The song, a single woman's voice singing soft Native American tunes daddy told her about. He wasn't much a singer… But grandmother…

Her grandmother, long flowing black hair like a waterfall of night on her shoulders and her sharp brown face… Her glowing ember eyes and soft hands… It was all she was. She was nature itself. The last time Luna saw her was when she was seven, and then

(she vanished)

she stopped coming.

The lullaby remained in her memory and she sighed. Glancing at the door for mummy or daddy, she turned both knobs at once. For a moment nothing happened, and she made to put it away, but there was a sound of a flute.

Two voices singing together.

Mummy and daddy's voices singing together.

_Constant as the stars above…_

(Daddy would tuck her in tightly and mummy would ask if she wanted anything. Luna would say she wanted a lullaby. Daddy and mummy exchanged a loving look. She was happy mummy and daddy were loving one another. Her eyes turned to daddy, her hair glowing silver in the moonlight. Daddy and mummy sat together and blew out the candle, the moonlight becoming the only light in the room. It shimmered at the comfortably, and Luna closed her eyes. They sung together, two separate voices joining to become one, long flowing sound. A vibration, a single wave in time and space, that brought comfort to ears. Eleves sung lullabies to eachother, even goblins found time to hum their tunes.)

_Always know, that you are loved…_

The song was already over and she sighed, shutting the music box and sliding it into her pocket. It was time.

For a long while now, Luna had been planning her escape. There was another world only daddy remembered, but didn't speak of. She pulled the sack from her bag and cloak from under her bed. There was something Luna needed to do. Every night, every day dream, ever mare there was that message. A deep wail for help.

She tugged the sack open and placed in extra robes and shoes.

The moon called for her, nudging for her to come. At first it was a warning, an 'it's almost time! Be ready!' And it was time. The past few days the urges have been stronger, no longer calling – but begging for her.

She tugged her bow and arrow, her very own, into the bag and slinked it over her shoulder. She placed the note, the one she had written ages ago, on her bed. It explained that she was going on a trip, but no exact dates of places. She pulled the mirror in front of her, grabbing a dagger.

Her heart beat heavily and her eyes were grave. Her lip quivered as she grabbed her hair, which was at such a length it graced the floor. The dagger edged closer and she made sure all her equipment was with her. Yes, it sat on the window waiting for her. Anticipating the time of departure.

A deep breath.

A slash.

Hair fell to a floor in a neat pile, until she was left with a messy boy's haircut. She ruffled through it and tore off her night-robe. There was armor, mummy's armor. Mummy couldn't remember where it was from, but it was there. Luna left a note there as well. The armor was perfect for her body, her flat chest certainty helped. Wiping her face of any make-up she had worn to graduation night. Tossing the velvet cloak on, placing a thing and small sword into its compartment in the armor, and grabbing her small bag, she crawled out the window, careful to shut it afterwards.

The cool night air brushed against her newly-exposed neck. A shiver coursed through her and with her mind set she rushed through the garden and into the forest. Fireflies flitted around her, asking where she was going.

She ignored them and moved swiftly through the dark. _Alright, remember, your name is Danny. You come from the out skirts of Clan. You are a 17-year-old boy who has lost his way. You are looking for a russet-haired man named 'Romano'._

With the plan in mind she moved along, scanning the horizon for a trace of person. None? Brilliant.

It was a brand new life, a brand new body, a brand new personality.

And it was totally, blooming mad. What in the world was Luna thinking? Why was she doing this? Because some bloke in her head told her to? She shook her head, running a hand through her shortened hair and sighing woefully. There was no going back now, she thought, it was set, I'll only be gone a few days anyhow.

If only, oh, if only.

She reached a stretch of land, a path that was lined with mushrooms and the shadows of tall pines that bordered it like a picture frame. The wind breathed through the trees and Luna grasped the hilt of her sword with a gloved hand, turning behind her. She'd heard the stories, she'd seen how daddy reacted when she and mummy went outside to watch the stars. He didn't trust the night. Mummy called it rubbish, but the reproachful look in his eyes declared something else entirely, a fear he wasn't sure he had.

The grass whispered across Luna's booted feet, her shadow dragging long behind her beneath the pale light of stars. With one last look at her parent's window, the dark, golden lined window, she set forth.

She was unsure how long it took for her to reach the edge of Herrin, assuming it took at least half the night. She was too far deep in her own thoughts to watch the sky. Her first mistake.

"Oi!" someone called from the right and Luna ducked behind a tree, peering and doubting through the branches. "Who're you?" the speaker was an elf, thin porcelain build, great sparkling green eyes, and pointed ears that tucked back long blonde hair. Luna was unsure of its gender, the voice gave no token. "Come out, I don't mean to harm you." Yes, a man, that's what it was.

Luna shyly began to crawl out, her hand hovering close to the steel hilt and her lips tightly squeezed together. Assuming this was no way to introduce one's self, she instantly straightened her back and stared at the elf evenly. "I'm Danny. I'm looking for a friend." She said, relieved her voice did not falter her.

"What are you?" the elf replied just a flatly, regarding her and getting closer than her liking. "You don't look like an Elf," he touched her hair. "or a Danny for that matter."

"I'm a human." Luna said, jerking away from his warm hands.

"Are you? You don't seem fully human. Why don't you come over? We could help you find this friend. My name is Aarin." He smiled a quiet grin that featured hardly a speck of malice.

"Why should I trust you?" Luna backed away.

"Why should I trust you? Why, you could be a thief, but that's not in your heart." Aarin looked into her eyes. The stare itself caused her eyes to water and she broke contact when the tears clouded her vision enough.

"Alright, say I do, how can you help me find this friend?"

"You'd be surprised." He turned swiftly, beckoning with his head, "come now, tea will get cold."


End file.
